lettin 


DUKE 
UNIVERSITY 


DIVINITY SCHOOL 
LIBRARY 


> 

. 9 
“ , 
wee 
> 
Loe 


reo. | 2 es 


he 


a iad “k 


SERIOUS CALL 


TO A 


DEVOUT § HOLY LI 


THE STATE AND CONDITION OF ALL 
ORDERS OF CHRISTIANS. 


BY WILLIAM LAW, A.M. 


eeoveroseseese  C 


FROM TH FIFTEENTH LONDON EDITION, 


-_—<P—— 


TO WHICH IS ADDED, 


SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR, © 


AND 


THREE LETTERS TO A FRIEND, 


Not before Published in ahy of his Works. Also, Two Letters © 
from Clergymen in the Established Church, strongly recom- 
mending the Serious Ca, and other Works of the Author: 
His Character, by Edward Gibbon, Esq. the Roman Historia 
and a List of all his Works. “ he 


» 


_ He that hath ears to bear, bt him Bara Luke viii. & 


And bebold I come quickly, and my reward is with me. 
: , Rev, xxii. 12 


—E— ; 

: ey 

i BOSTON: » Be. 
PUBLISHED BY E. AND J. LARKIN, 
NO. 47, CORHNIEL. . 

* GREENOUGH AND STEBBINS, PRINTERS Wee : 


eneerecorece 


Bi, mene 1808, ~ 


CONTENTS. 


ereterree 4 
- 


CHAP. I. 
CONCERNING the nature and extent of chrifian 


_ devotion. me 
CHAP. II. a 

An enquiry into the reafon, why the generality of fie 
cbrifiians fall fo far fort of the holine/s and devo- y é 
tion of chriflianity.  ) $f = 
CHAP. III. ‘Se 


Of the great danger and folly of not intending to be as 
eminent and exemplary, as we can, in the praéiice of 
all chriftian virtues. 42 
c CHAP. IV. 
_ We can pleafe God in no fate or condition of life, but 
t by intending and devoting it all to bis honour and 
re glory. % 
4 | CHAP. V. 
Perfons that are free from the neceffity of labour and 


loyments are to confider themfelves as devoted ta 
God in a higher degree. 

CHAP. VI. 

Containing the great obligations, and the great advan- 
~ tages of making a wife and religious ufe of cur 
eftates and fortunes. 

CHAP. VII. ee: 
 , How the imprudent ufe of an eftate corrupts all the 
.* tempers of the mind, and fills the heart with poor — 

: CCL ae 


ae 


5 Pek! Da Pe oe ee ee ee 
¥oe CONTENTS. 


and ridiculous paffions, through the whole courfe of 
_ life 3 reprefented in the charaGer of Flavia,” 84 


an CHAP. VII. 
How the wife and pious ufe of an eftate, naturally car- 
| ritth us to great perfection in all the virtues of the 
 chriftian life s reprefented in the charader of Mi- 
“Yanda. wel. = 


CHAPS t= 
Containing fome refleGions upon the life of Mirand@ ; 
and fozwing how it may, and ought to be imitated 


by all her fex. 101 
CHAP. X. 
Shewing how all orders and ranks of men and women 
; of all ages, are obliged to devote themfelves unto God. 114 
CHAP. XI. 


Shewing how great devotion fills our lives with the — * 
greateft peace and happinefs that can be enjoyed in 
this world. 129 


CHAP. XII. 


The happine/s of a life whelly devoted unto God, far- 

\ ther proved, from the vanity, the fenfuality, and the 
ridiculous, poor enjayments, which they are forced 
to take up with, who live according to their own 
humours. This reprefented in various charaéters. 144 


CHAP. XIII. 
_ That only a life of vanity, or fenfuality, but even the 
. moft regular kind of life, that is not governed by a 
great devotion, fufficiently fhews its miferies, its 
wants, and emptinefs, to the eyes of all the world. 
This reprefented in various charaders. B57. 


CHAP. XIV. 


Concerning that part of devotion which relates to times 


bs . and hours of prayer. Of daily early prayer in the 


CONTENTS. 


morning. How we are to improve our forms of 
prayer, and how to increafe the {pirit of devotion. 


CHAP. XV. 

Of chanting or finging of Pfalms in our private devo-~ 
tions. Of the excellency and benefit of this kind of 
devotion. Of the great effects it hath upon our hearts. 
Of the means of performing it in the beft manner. 


CHAP. XVI. 
Recommending devotion at nine o'clock in the morning, 
called in Scripture the third hour of the day. The 
fubje& of these prayers is humility. 


CHAP. XVII. . 

Shewing how difficult the practice of humility is made, 
by the general fpirit and temper of the world. How 
Chriftianity requireth us to live contrary to the 
world. ‘ 


CHAP. XVIII. 


Shewing how the education which men generally re- 
ceive in their youth, makes the doéirine of humility 
difficult to be pradifed. The Jpirit of a better 


. education, reprefented in the charaéer of Paternus. 


CHAP. XIX. 

Shewing how the method of educating daughters, makes 
it difficult for them to enter into the fpirit of chriflian 
humility. How miferably they are injured and abuf- 
ed by fuch an education. The fpirit of a better edu- 
cation reprefented in the chara@er of Euulebia. 


CHAP. XX. 


Recommending devotion at twelve o’clock, called in 
Scripture the xth hour of the day. This fre- 
quency of devotion equally defirable by all orders of 
people. Univerfal love is here recommended to be 
the fubjed of prayer at this hour. Of interceffion, 
as an att of univerfal love. 


Ag 213938 


171 


193 


234 


247 


ne. 4 


in’ oie a — le a 


wi CONTENTS. 


CHAP. XXI. 
Of the neceffity and benefit of interceflion, confidered as 
an exercife of univerfal love. How all orders of 
men are to pray and intercede with God for one 


another. How naturally fuch interceffion amends 
and reforms the hearts of thofe that ufe it. 


CHAP. XXII: 
Recommending devotion at three o’ clock, called in Scrip- 
ture the ninth hour of the day. The /ubjeé of prayer 
at this hour, is refignation to the divine pleafure. 
The nature and duty of conformity to the will of 
God in all our aétions and defigns. 


CHAP. XXIII. 
Of evening prayer. Of the nature and neceffity of ex- 


amination. How we are to be particular in the 
confeffion of all our fins. How we are to fill our 
minds with a juft horror and dread of all fin. 


CHAP. XXIV. 


The conelufion. Of the Excellency and Greatne/s of a 
devout Spirit. 


289 


306 


319 


332 


SOME ACCOUNT 


OF THE 


REV. WILLIAM LAW. 


To which are fubjoined Two Letters from Clergymen in the 
eftablifoed Church, ftrongly recommending the SzRious 
Caxz, and other works of the Author ; alfo his charafer, 
Sc. by Epwarv Giszon, Efg. the Roman hiftorian, 
and a lift of all his works. “ 


ee ee 


THE Rev. W. Law was born in the town of 
King’s Cliffe, in the county of Northampton, in the year 
1686 ; his education, and the early years of his life, were 
very ferious ; at what time he entered the Univerfity, or 
when he took his degree of A. M. cannot be exaétly 
afcertained, but his leaving that place was about the year 
1712: after having made great proficiency in every 
branch of human literature, afterwards taking the advice 
of our Saviour to the rich young man, he totally re- 
nounced the. world, and followed Chrift, in meeknefs, 
humility, and felf-denial. 


Mr. Law was a bachelor all his life-time : in perfon, 


he was a well fet man, and rather of a dark complexion,, 


though remarkably cheerful in his temper ; fuch was 
his love of privacy, and a ftate of recollection, that it 
was very feldom indeed that he paffed more than two 
hours in the company of any perfon ; with a very {mall 
patrimony, he was remarkably charitable, particularly to 
his poor neighbours, the manufaCturers of wooden ware, 
in and about King’s Cliffe ; in this benevolent difpofition 
he was joined by the two maiden ladies, with whom he 
refided at King’s Cliffe ; their objeét was not to encour- 
age the idle and diffolute, but to promote and facilitate 
the good intentions and endeavours of the induftnious. 


ie 


s 
vill” SOME ACCOUNT OF 


Such alfo was the little value he fet on money, that he 
gave the copies of all his works intended for publication 
to his bookfeller ; but for one of them, Mefirs. Richard- 
fons and Urquhart, infifted upon his acceptance of one 
hundred guineas. 

We fhall now relate part of what he uttered in his laft 
illnefs, which was witnefled by the friend to whom he 
addrefled the three letters which accompany this work. 
—Juft before his bleffed foul took its happy flight, to 
dwell for ever with the faints in blifs ; the heavenly glory 
fo opened itfelf in him, that he broke forth into the 
following exultation, which, fhewing the truth of his 
own highly regenerate ftate, as well as the joyful reality 
of the life of God in the foul of man, deferves to be 
written in letters of gold, not only to convince the in- 
fidel, but alfo to comfort and confirm the pious pilgrim, 
in his journey, through the thorny wildernefs of this 
world, into the peaceful regions of immortal blifs. 

“« Away with thefe filthy garments ;” faid this dying 
faint, “I feel a facred fire kindled in my foul, which 
will deftroy every thing contrary to itfelf, and burn as a 
flame of divine love to all eternity.” 

In fuch a triumph of holy joy did this extraordinary 
fervant of God refign his bleffed {pirit into the hands 
of his beloved Lord and Maifter, at the place of his na- 
tivity, the town of King’s Cliffe, in the county of 
Northampton. And in the church-yard of that parifh, 
he hes interred, under 2 handfame tomb,cref&ed te his 
memory, by a particular and dear friend, who lived many 
years with him, and therefore had long known, and .. 
highly and juftly efteemed his fingular worth: which 
was exprefled in the following lines, engraven by the 
direGtion of the fame friend, on the top-ftone of his. 
tomb. 


Here lyeth the body 
OF THE LATE 
Rev. WILLIAM LAW, a. m. 


Who died April 9, 1761. 
‘ AGED 75. 


* ‘THE REV. W. LAW. ax 


He was well known to the world by a number of truly 
chriftian, pious writings exemplified by a life {pent in a 
manner fuitable to a worthy and true difciple of his 
heavenly, divine, crucified mafter and Saviour Jesus 
Curist, who lived and {poke in him and by him. In 
his younger days, he fufficiently diftinguifhed himfelf, 
by his parts and progrefs in human literature. After- 
wards taking the advice of our Saviour to the rich young 
man, he totally renounced the world and followed 
Chrift, in meeknefs, humility and felf-denial. And in 
his laft years, he was wholly abforbed in his love to God 
and mankind ; fo that virtue in him was nothing but 
heavenly love and heavenly flame. 


In parts and fenfe, inferior to none, 

With wit moft amiable, with learning ftored ; 
His talents great and high were quite fublimed, 
In loving God with all his heart and mind. 

His time was all employ’d in things divine, 

By ferving God, in goodnefs to mankind. 

The poor, the maim’d, the blind have loft in him, 
The kind proteétor, and ready friend. 


Some time after his deceafe the following verfes ap-— 
peared in print : : 


To the memory of that excellent man, and truly il- 
luminated divine, the late Rev. Wittiam ‘Law, 
a. m. Thefe following lines are offered by one who 
has received great benefit from his moft valuable 
works. é 


FAREWELL, good man! whofe great and heav’nly mind, 
In love embrac’d the whole of human kind, 
From earth’s dark fcene, to realms of joy and light, 
Thy foul congenial, took her happy flight ; 
With kindred fpirits mix’d, and bright as they, 
Thou drink’ with them the ftreams of endlefs day : 
_ While we below lament thy abfence motft, 
Like all true worth, then deareft, when ’tis loft. 


al 
x SOME ACCOUNT OF 


Bound to no fe&, to no one party tied, 
To fons of God in ev’ry clime allied : 
Like light’s great orb, to no one realm confin’d, 
Thy heav’n taught foul capacious grafp’d mankind. 
Of pains fevere, thou felt’ft the tort’ring fmart, 
While grace pour’d comfort on thy better part. 
Thy will refign’d, with breath unmurm’ring bore, 
*Thy laft fharp paflage to the heav’nly fhore. 
Thy heart’s beft image, ftill, thy writings, fhine, 
One fpirit breathe, the dove and lamb divine. [charm, 
Though ftopt thy tongue, thy foul’s ftrong breathings 
Though cold thy clay, thy ardent thoughts ftill warm. 
Awak’d by thee, we feel the heav’nly fire, 
And with feraphic flames to God afpire ; 
Thy pious zeal transfus’d to other hearts, 
New fprings of blifs, and nobler life imparts. 
No time, no numbers, can exhauft thy mine, 
Thy gifts are full: pofterity is thine. 
Through future ages fhall thy labours go, 
Like ftreams, enriching nations as they flow ; 
__ Who, while perufing, catch the facred fire, 
_ » Fetch the deep figh, and pant with ftrong defire, 
_~ For glory loft : heav’n lent thy pencil rays, 

To paint that glory, and diffufe its blaze, 
Though for thefe days thy colours are too bright, 
And hurt weak eyes by their too radiant light ; 
Yet wifdom’s fons, tho’ few, to good awake, 
Drink thy” Tweet fpring, and bread celeftial break. 
*>Midit Babel’s various tongues, tho’ thoufands ftray, 
In theongpe wanderer finds “his mafter’s way. 
Tn heaps Tet critics, commentators, lie, 
‘Thy works will make a chriftian library. 
Tn vain fhall malice feek to wound thy name, 
Or ignorance thy folid worth defame. 
Retraé& your cenfures, you who dare be good ; > 
Confefs your heads ne’er yet have underftood 
The pearls} which God to myftic fons reveal’d ; 
From the prefumptuous, wifdom’s fount is feal’d. 
Yet this her child, wants no man’s Pen to praife, 
Nor flander dreads in thefe degen’rate days: 


ft; 


. * His-end was haftened by a fuppreffion of urine. 


‘THE REV. W. LAW. i 


- Bar nobler monuments will guard his fame, 
~ Deep in their breafts the good engrave his name. 


The following is the remarks of Edward Gibbon, 
Efq. on the Rev. Mr. Law, and his works, extrated 
from his memoirs in 2 vols. 4to. 


His words are : 

«« Mr. Law died at an advanced age, of a fuppreffion 
of urine, in 1761, at the houfe of Mrs. Hefther Gibbon, 
known by the name of the Cliffe, in Northampton- 
fhire, where fhe ftill refides. In that family he has left 
the reputation of a worthy and eminently-pious man, 
who believed all that he profeffed, and practifed all 
that he enjoined. The charaéter of a Non-jurog, which 
he held to the laft, is a fufficient evidence of the tena- 
cioufnefs of his principles in Church and State ; and 
the facrifice of his intereft to his confcience will be al- 
ways refpetable. ; 

« His theological writings, which our domeftic con- 
cerns induced me to read, preferve an amiable though 
imperfe& fort of life, in my opinion ; but here, per- 
haps, I pronounce with more confidence than knowl- 
edge on the merits of the man no pen can juftify. His 


laft compofitions feemed tinétured too much with the - 


myftic enthufiafm of Jacob Behmen ; and his difcourfe 
on the abfolute unlawfulnefs .of the flage may be call- 
ed a ridiculous intemperance of fentiment and lan- 


age. 
ae, But thefe fallies of phrenzy muft not extinguifh the 
praife that is due to Mr. Law, as a wit and a fcholar. 
His argument on topics of lefs abfurdity is fpecious and 
acute ; his manner is lively, his ftyle forcible and clear ; 
and, had not the vigour of his mind been clouded by 
enthufiafm, he might be ranked with the moft agreeable 
and ingenious writers of the times. 25 

“‘ While the Bangorian controverfy was a fafhionable 


theme, he entered the lifts. He refumed the conteft © 


again with Bifhop Hoadly, in which his Non-juring 
principles appear, though he approves himfelf equal tc 
both Prelates. ; 


a 
xii” SOME ACCOUNT OF 


_& On the appearance of the ‘* Fable of the Bees,”? he 
drew his pen againft the licentioufnefs of the doftrine ~ 
of that writer ; and Morality and Religion mutt rejoice 
in his applaufe and victory. 

“« Mr. Law’s matter-piece, the *¢ Serious Call,’ is 
fill read as a popular and powerful book of devotion. 
‘His precepts are rigid, but they are formed and derived 
from the Gofpel ; his fatire is fharp, but his wifdom is 
from the knowledge of human life ; and many of his 
portraits are not unworthy the pen of La Bruyere. If 
there yet exifts a {park of piety in his reader’s mind, he 
will foon kindle it to a flame ; and a philofopher muft 
allow that. he is more confiftent in his principles than 
any of the tribe of myftic writers. He handles with 
equal forerity and truth the ftrange contradiétion be- 
tween faith and praétice in the Chriitian world. Under 
the names of Flavia and Miranda, he has admirably de- 
{cribed Mr. Gibbon’s two aunts, the worldly and the 
pious fifters.’’ ) 

Such is the charaéter this famous hiftorian is com- 
pelled by the fpirit of truth, to give to the piety and 
goodnefs of Mr. Law, the moft eminent and original 
writer of his day ; the lift of his works, which we now 
infert, together with two excellent letters from clergy- 
men in the eftablifhed Church, referring to them and 
him, is taken from the Gent. Mag. Nov. 1800. 

His works are, 

1. A ferious Call to a devout and holy Life, adapted 
to the State and Condition of all Orders of Chriftians, 
8yo. 

2. A Pratical Treatife upon Chriftian Perfection, 
8yo. 

3. Three Letters to the Bishop of Bangor, 8vo. 

4. Remarks upon a late Book, entitled, “The Fable 
of the Bees ; or Private Vices Public Benefits.”” 8vo. 

5. The abfolute Unlawfulnefs of Stage Entertain- 
ments fully demonttrated, 8vo. 

6. The Cafe of Reafon, or Natural Religion, fairly 
and fully ftated, 8vo. 

7. An earneft and ferious Anfwer to Dr. Trapp’s 
Difcourfe of the Folly, Sin, and Danger, of being right- 


eous over much, 8yo. eens 


THE REV. W. LAW. xiii 
8. The Grounds and Reafons of Chriftian Regenera- 


tion, 8vo. 

9. A Demonftration of the grofs and fundamental 
Errors of a late Book, called “« A plain Account of the 
Nature and End of the Sacrament of the Lord’s Sup- 
per,” affe€tionately addreffed to all Orders of Men, and 
more efpecially to all the younger Clergy, 8vo. - 

10. An Appeal to all that doubt or difbelieve the 
Truths of the Gofpel, 8vo. 

Il. The Spirit of Prayer ; or the Soul rifing out of 
the Vanity of time into the Riches of Eternity. In 
Two Parts, 8vo. 

12. The Spirit of Love. In Two Parts, 8vo. , 

13. The Way to Divine Knowledge ; being feveral 
Dialogues between Humanus, Academicus, Rufticus, 
and Theophilus, as preparatory to a new Edition of the 
Works of Jacob Behmen, and the right Ufe of them, 
Svo. ; 

14, A fhort but fufficient Confutation of the Rev. 
Dr. Warburton’s projected Defence (as he calls it) of 
Chriftianity, in his Divine Legation of Mofes.. Ina 
Letter to the Right Rev. the Lord Bifhop of London. 

15. A Colle&tion of Letters on the moft interefting 
and important Subjects, and on feveral Occafions, 8vo. 

16. Of Juftification by Faith and’ Works ; a Dia- 
logue between a Methodift and a Churchman, 8vo. 

17. An humble, earneft, and affeGtionate Addrefs to 
the Clergy, 8vo. 


Scarborough, December. 21, 1771. 
1. “ Sir, 


« ____ Sunt certa piacula, qu te 
Ter pure leéto poterunt recreare libello.” Hor. 


« As I have an univerfal love and efteem for all man- 
kind, fo particularly for my brethren of the Eftablifhed: 
Church, of which I fhould think myfelf an unworthy 

_ member, did I not take all opportunities of doing good: 

i according to the abilities with which God has enabled _ 

me. But as I have ever thought a concern for men’s 
B 


xiv SOME ACCOUNT OF 


fouls to be acters to that of their bodies, fo I have 
in a more efpecial manner extended my charity to 
that better part. We live in an age wherein numerous 
objeéts prefent themfelves to our view, that are deftitute 
of every virtue that can make them worthy of the di- 
vine favour, and confequently there never will be want- 
ing occafions for exercifing ourfelves in a laudable en- 
deavour to their amendment. I, for my own part, 
though I live, (when at home) in a {mall country village, 
have had fufficient work upon my hands to bring my 
parifhioners to any tolerable degree of piety and good- 
nefs: I preached and laboured amongft them incef- 
fantly, and yet, after all, was convinced my work had 
been as fruitlefs as cafting pearls before fwine ; the 
drunkard continued his noéturnal praétices, and the 
voice of the fwearer was ftill heard in our ftreets. How- 
ever, I was determined to leave no means untried for 
bringing this profane and obdurate people to a fenfe of 
their duty ; accordingly I purchafed many religious 
books, and diftributed them amongft them ;: but, alas ! 
I could perceive no vifible effects. In fhort, I had the 
grief to find, that all my labour had proved in vain, and 
was ready to cry .out with St. Paul, who is fufficient 
for thefe things ? About this time I happened to perufe 
a treatife of Mr. Law’s, intituled, «* A ferious Call to a 
devout and holy Life ;?? with which (if I may be allowed 
the expreffion) I was fo charmed and greatly edified, 
that I refolved my flock fhould partake of the fame fpir- 
itual food ; I therefore gave to each perfor in my par- 
ifh one of thofe ufeful books, and charged them upon 
my bleffing (for I confider them as my children) to care- 
fully perufe the fame. My perfeverance was now re- 
warded with fuccefs ; and I had the fatisfa€tion of be- 
holding my people reclaimed, from a life of folly and 

“ impiety, to a life of holinefs and devotion. 

« Before I conclude, I muft beg leave to recommend 
the afore-mentioned book to the perufal of all your read- 
ers; and I heartily wifh they may receive as much 
benefit therefrom, as thofe have who are committed t 
my charge. ae 

“ This excellent treatife is wrote in a ftrong and ner- 
vous ftyle, and abounds with many new and fublime 


THE REV. W. LAW. xv 


thoughts: in a word, one may fay of this book as Sir 
Richard Steel did of a difcourfe of Dr. South’s, that it 
has in it whatever wit and wifdom can put together; and 
I will venture to add, that whoever fits down without 

_ prejudice and attentively reads it throughout, will rife 
up the wifer man and better Chriftian. 

« Tt remains now only that I mention a word or two 
concerning the author. This worthy clergyman has 
been accufed (by thofe lukewarm Chriftians, who ndi- 
cule all degrees of piety, that x above the common 
ftandard) of Methodifm ; a charge as falfe as it is cruel. 
I fay not this as my own private opinion, but from the 
teftimony of feveral gentlemen of undoubted credit, who 
are acquainted with his manner of life and converfation. 
Indeed, this is fufficiently demonftrated in many parts 
of this author’s works, particularly in his Three Letters 
to the Bifhop of Bangor, wherein he writes in vindica- 
tion of the rites and ceremonies of the Church of Eng- 
land. All which evidently declare the reverend author 
to be an orthodox divine, and an indefatigable iabourer 
in the Lord’s vineyard. 

' Ouranivs.” 


2. « Sir, North-Crawley, Feb. 6th, 1772. 


“« T perufed the letter figned Ouranius in your paper* 
with that cordial complacency which every faithful ftew- 
ard muft feel, from obferving the furtherance of his 
mafter’s intereft : and I devoutly wifh that every other 
fellow-labourer was as affiduous in fowing the good feed, 
as the enemy feems in fowing the tares. 

« But while I approve and applaud Ouranius’s zeal 
in recommending that excellent pratical fummary of 
Chriftian duty, the Serious Call, I feem to regret the 
limitation of it to that treatife alone, when to me it ap- 
pears that a ferious attention to thofe fublime tratts’ of 
the fame divinely illuminated writer, “ The Spirit of 
Prayer,” and “ The Spirit of Love,” would be produc- 
tive of at leaft equal advantages, efpecially at a feafon 
when the ferpent is winding about, infinuating his dead- 

* This and the preceding Letter originally appeared in Lloyd’s 

| Evening Poft. ( Pe 


ss seal 


i SOME ACCOUNT OF 


ly poifon in arrogant illuftrations, and antichriftian Fam- 
ily Bibles. : 

“ To know whom we worfhip, to entertain proper 
notions of GOD, is the firft neceffary principle of true 
religion.. And thefe volumes are calculated to convey 
fuch exalted and amiable ideas of God, and to unfold in 
fo rational and delightful a manner, the great myfteries 
of redemption and regeneration, that whoever perufes 
them with candour and attention will find in them a 
perfe&t key to the Holy Scriptures, * having (if I may 
be allowed the facred language) the glory of God, and 
his light, like unto a ftone moft precious, clear as eryftal.”” 
And, befide informing his underftanding, if they do not 
elevate his heart to an exalted pitch of love and devo- 
tion to his great benefaétor, and caufe it to overflow in 
ftreams of grateful benevolence to all mankind, he muft 
be among thofe obdurate infenfibles who need our pity 
and our prayers. 

«* The happy effets here prothifed are not the mere 
fpeculative conje€tures of fancy, for I have only defcrib- 
ed what were my own feelings upon the fame occafion. 
And I will farther venture to declare, that I received 
more light and fatisfaétion from the perufal of thefe little 
volumes, than I had been able to extraé& from many vol- — 
umes of letter-learned commentators, darkened illuftra- 
tions and bodies of Divinity, which I had before care- 
fully read with the fame temper and defire. 

« Tam fo far in the fame unfortunate predicament 
with Ouranius, never to haye enjoyed the bleffednefs of 
that holy man’s converfation ; but I have it well authen- 
ticated that he faithfully praCtifed what he taught, or, 
in Burkitt’s words, that his was ‘a preaching life as 
well as a preaching doétrine.”” And that pious difregard 
and contempt of the riches and honours of the world, 
which he fo pathetically recommends to others, himfelf 
eminently difplayed in refufing fome of the beft prefer- 
ments in the bifhop of London’s gift, when proffered by 
his friend Dr. Sherlock, in reward of the unanfwerable 
letters to the bifhop of Bangor. 

« The charge of Methodifm I never heard infinuated 
againft him, and could proceed only from thofe who 
mnie tally ignorant of the tenets of that fed, or un+ 


THE REV. W. LAW. xvii 


acquainted with any among the writings of our able de- 
fender of church difcipline and authority, and efpecially 
of the laft except one, “on juitification by Faith and 
Works.” 

« But not to leave myfelf liable to reprehenfion for 
the partiality I have noticed in another, I am perfuaded, 
that whoever has imbibed knowledge at this pure foun- 
tain will never ceafe thirfting while there remains a 
drop of the facred fpring untafted. And that every 
{crip of that divinely-dire€ted pen may be as extenfive 
as was the writer’s benevolence, is the ardent prayer of 
your fincere well-wifher, 

“ THEOPHILOS.” 
Yours, &c. Z. Cozens. 


The following are the Author's Letters to a Friend: 
LETTER I* < 
Worthy and dear Sir, 


MY heart embraces you, with all the tendernefs and - 
- affe@tion of chriftian love; and I earneftly beg of God. Be 

to make me a meffenger of his peace to your foul. 

You feem to apprehend I may be much furprifed at 
the account you have given of yourfelf. But, Sir, Lam 
neither furprifed nor offended at it. I neither condemn 
nor lament your ftate: but fhall endeavour to fhew you 
how foon it may be made a bleffing and happinefs to you. 
In order to which, I fhall not enter into a confideration 
of the different kinds of trouble you have fet forth at 
large. I think it better to lay before you the one true 
ground and root, from whence all the evil and diforders 
of human life have fprung. This will make it eafy for 
you to fee what that is, which muft and only can, be the 
full remedy and relief for all of them, how different 
foever, either in kind or degree. : 

The feripture has affured us, that God made man in 
his own image and likenefs ; a fufficient proof, that man, 
in his firft ftate, as he came forth from God, muft have 


« * The firft of thefe Letters was written in the year 1745 
the fecond, in the year 1750, and the laft about the year 1753. 
B2 


xviii SOME ACCOUNT OF 


been abfolutely free from all vanity, want, or diftrefs of 
any kind, from any thing, either within or without him. 
It would be quite abfurd and blafphemous to fuppofe, 
that a creature beginning to exift in the image and like- 
nefs of God, fhould have a vanity of life, or vexation of 
{pirit. A God-like perfeGtion of nature, and a painful 
diftreffed nature, ftand in the utmoft contrariety to one 
another. 

Again, the fcripture has affured us, that man that is 
born of a woman hath but a fhort time to live, and is full 
of mifery : therefore man now is not that creature that 
he was by his creation. The firft divine and God-like 
nature of Adam, which was to have been immortally 
holy in union with God is loft, and inftead of it, a poor 
mortal of earthly flefh and blood, born like a wild afs’s 
colt, of a fhort life, and full of mifery, is, through a vain 
pilgrimage, to end in duit and afhes. Therefore let 
every evil, whether inward or outward, only teach you 
this truth, that ‘man has infallibly loft his firft divine life 
in God ; and that no poffible comfort, or deliverance, is 
to be expeGted, but only in this one thing, that though 
man had loft his God, yet God is become man, that man 
may be again alive in God, as at his firft creation. For 
all the mifery and diftrefs of human nature, whether of 
body or mind, is wholly owing to this one caufe, that 
God is not in man, nor man in God, as the ftate of his 
nature requires : it is becaufe man has loft that firft life 
of God in his foul, in and for which he was created. He 
loft this light and fpirit and life of God, by turning 

_ his will, imagination, and defire into a tafting and fenfi- 
bility of the good and evil of this earthly, beitial world. 

Now here are two things raifed up in man, inftead of 
the life of God :—Firkt ; felf or felfifhnefs, brought forth 
by his choofing to have a wifdom of his own, contrary to 
the will and inftur&ion of his Creator.—Secondly ; an 
earthly beftial, mortal life and body, brought forth by 
his eating that food, which was poifon to his paradifical 
nature. Both thefe muft therefore be removed ; thatis, 
a man muft firft totally die to felf, and all earthly defires, 
views and intentions, before he can be again in apie 
his nature and firft creation requires. 


But now, if this be a certain and immutable truth, ut id 


THE REY. W. LAW. ix 


man, fo long as he is a felfifh earthly minded creature, 
muft be deprived of his true life, the life of God, the 
fpirit of heaven in his foul; then how is the face of 
things changed ! for then, what life is fo much to be 
dreaded, as a life of worldly eafe and profperity ? whata 
mifery, nay, what a curfe, is there in every thing that 
gratifies and nourifhes our felf-love, felf-efteem, and felf- 
feeking ? On the other hand, what a happinefs as there 
in all inward and outward troubles and vexations, when 
they force us to feel and know the hell that is hidden 
within us, and the vanity of every thing without us : when | 
they turn our felf-love into felf-abhorrence, and force us to 
call upon God, to fave us from ourfelves, to give us 2 
new life, new light, and new fpirit in Chrift Jefus. 

’ © happy famine ! might the poor prodigal have well 
faid, “‘ which by reducing me to the neceffity of afking 
to eat hufks with fwine, brought me to myfelf, and 
caufed my return to my firft happinefs, in my father’s 
houfe.”” 

Now, fir, I will fuppofe your diftreffed fate to be as 
you reprefent it ; inwardly, darknefs, heavinefs, and_con- 
fufion of thoughts and paffions ; outwardly, ill ufage 
from friends, relations, and all the world ; unable to 
ftrike up the leaft fpark of light or comfort, by any 
thought or reafoning of your own. 

O happy famine, which leaves you not fo much as 
the hufk of one human comfort to feed upon! For, my 
dear friend, this is the time and place for all that good 
and life, and falvation, to happen to you, which happen- 
ed to the prodigal fon. Your way is as fhort, and your 
fuccefs as certain, ashis was. You have no more to do 
than he had. You need not call out for books and 
methods of devotion: for, in your prefent ftate, much ~ 
reading, and borrowed prayers, are not your beft meth- 
od. All that you are to offer to God, all that is to 
help you to find him to be your Saviour and Redeemer, 
is beft taught and expreffed by the diftreffed ftate of your 
heart. 

Only let your prefent and paft diftrefs make you feel 
and acknowledge this two-fold great truth: firft, that 
in and of yourfelf, you are nothing but darknefs, vanity 
and mifery. Secondly, that of yourfelf, you can no 


xX SOME ACCOUNT OF 


more help yourfelf to light and comfort, than you can 
create an angel. People, at all times, can feem to affent 
to thefe two truths, but then it is an affent that has no 
depth or reality, and fo is of little or no ufe. But your 
condition has opened your heart, for a deep and full 
conviction of thefe truths.. Now give way, I befeech 
you, to this conviction, and hold thefe two truths in the 
fame degree of certainty, as you know two and two to 
be four ; and then, my dear friend, you are, with the 
prodigal, come to yourfelf ; and above HALF YOUR 
WORK IS DONE. 

Being now in the full poffeffion of thefe two truths, 
feeling them in the fame degree of certainty, as you feel 
your own exiftence, you are under this fenfibility to 
give yourfelf abfolutely and entirely to God in Chrift 
Jefus, as into the hands of infinite love : firmly beliey- 
ing this great and infallible truth, that God has no will 
towards you, but that of infinite love, and infinite defire 
to make you a partaker of his divine nature ; and that — 
it is as abfolutely impoffible for the Father of our Lord 
- Jefus Chrift, to refufe you all that good, and life, and 
falvation, which you want, as it is for you to take it 
by your own power. 

Q, fir, drink deep of this cup ; for the precious water 
of eternal life is init. Turn unto God with this faith ; 
caft yourfelf into this aby{s of love ; and then you will 
be in that ftate the prodigal was in, when he faid, I will 
arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him, father, 
I have finned againit heaven, and before thee, and am 
no more worthy to be called thy fon ; and all all will 
be fulfilled in you, which is related of him. 

Make this, therefore, the two-fold exercife of peor 
heart : Now, bowing yourfelf down before God, in the 
deepeft fenfe and acknowledgment of your own nothing- 
nefs and vilenefs ; then, looking up to God in faith and 
love, confider him as always extending the arms of his” 
mescy towards you, and full of an infinite defire to dwell 
in you, as he dwells in the angels in heaven. Content 
' yourfelf with this inward and _fimple exercife of your 
heart, for a while ; and feck, or like nothing in any book 
but that which nourifhes and indicts this tate haa 
your heart. 


THE REV: W. LAW. xx 


Come unto me, fays the holy Jefus, all ye that labour, 
and are heavy laden, and I wili refrefh you. Here, my 
dear friend, is more for you to live upon, more light 
for your mind, more of unétion for your heart, than in 
volumes of human inftru€tion. Pick up the words of 
the holy Jefus, and beg of him to be the light and life 
of your foul: Love the found of his name ; for Jesus 
is the love, the {weetnefs, the meeknefs, the compaffion- 
ate goodnefs of the Deity itfelf; which became man, 
that fo men might have power to become the fons of 
God. Love, pity, and with well to every foul in the 
world ; dwell in love, and then you dwell in God: hate 
nothing but the evil that ftirs in your own heart. 

Teach your heart this prayer till your heart continu- 
ally faith, though not with outward words : “ O holy 
Jefus, meek Lamb of God! Bread that came down from 
heaven! Light and life of all holy fouls! help me to 
a true and living faith inthee. O do thou open thyfelf 
within me, with all thy holy nature, fpirit, tempers, and 
inclinations, that I may be born again of thee ; and be 
in thee a new creature, quickened and revived, led and 
governed by thy holy {pirit.”’ 

Yours in all Chriftian affe€tion, 
W. LAW. 


LETTER II. 


; July 20. 
My dear worthy Friend, 

Whom I heartily love in the unity of the {pirit of 
Chrift. Your long letter I received fome time the laft 
month, and read with much pleafure. For, long as it 
was, I did not wifh it to be fhorter. I blefs God for 
that good and right fpirit, which breathed in every part 
of it. As it required no immediate anfwer, and you 
left me to my own time, fo I did not intend to write till 
laft week ; but by accidental affairs, have been hindered 
from complying with my intention till now. 

Your judgment has’ failed you in nothing, but in 
thinking your letter would be difagreeable to me ; or that 
my anfwer was deferred on that account. Every crea- 
ture has my love ; but perfons of your {pirit kindle in me 


Xxil SOME ACCOUNT OF 


every holy affe&tion of honour and efteem towards them. 
Love with its fruits of meeknefs, patience, and humility, 
is all that I with, for myfelf, and every human creature : 
For this is to live in God, united to him, both for time 
and eternity. Would you have done with error, {cru- 
ple and delufion, confider the Deity (as I have faid) to 
be the greateft love, the greateft meeknefs, the greateft 
fweetnefs ; the eternal unchangeable will to be a good 
and bleffing to every creature ; and that all the mifery, . 
darknefs and death, of fallen angels, and fallen men, con- 
fifts in their having loft this.divine nature. Confider 
yourfelf, and all the fallen world, as having nothing to 
feek or wifh for, but by the fpirit of prayer to draw into 
the life of your foul, rays and fparks of this divine, meek, 
loving, tender nature of God. Confider the holy Jefus 
as the gift of God to your foul, to begin and finifh the 
birth of God and heaven within you, in fpite of every 
inward or outward enemy. Thefe three infallible truths 
heartily embraced, and made the nourifhment of your 
foul, fhorten and fecure the way to heaven, and leave no 
room for error, {cruple, or delufion. The poverty of our 
fallen nature, the depraved workings of flefh and blood, 
the corrupt tempers of our polluted birth in this world, 
do us no‘hurt, fo long as the fpirit of prayer works con- 
trary to them, and longs for the firft birth of the light 
and fpirit of heaven. 

All our natural evil ceafes to be our own evil, as foon 
as our will-fpirit turns from it :* it then changes its na- 
ture, lofes all its poifon and death, and only becomes 
our holy crofs, on whi e happily die from felf, and 
this world, into ne dom of heaven. 

I much congratulate you on your manner of prayer : 
fo practifed, it becomes the life of the foul, and the true 
food of eternity. Keep in this ftate of application to 
God, and then you will infallibly find it to be the way 
of rifing out of the vanity of time, into the riches of 
eternity. ‘ 

Do not expe or look for the fame degrees of fenfible 
fervour.—The matter lies not there.— Nature will have 
its fhare ; but the ups and downs of that are to bejover= 
looked.—Whilft your will-fpirit is good, and fet right, 
the changes of creaturely fervour leffen not your"unien 


eae, sheet * 


THE REV. W. LAW. XXiki 


with God. It is the abyfs of the heart, an unfathom- 
able depth of eternity within us, as much above fenfible 
fervour, as heaven is above earth ; it is this that works 
our way to God, and unites us with heaven. This 
aby{s of the heart, is the divine nature and power within 
us, which never calls upon God in vain, but whether 
helped or deferted by bodily fervour, penetrates through 
all outward nature, as eafily and effetually as our 
thoughts can leave our bodies, and reach into the regions 
of eternity. 
I am, with hearty prayers to 


; God for you, 
Your truly affe€tionate 
Friend and fervant, 
_W. LAW. 


LETTER IIL 


My dear L 


I am greatly rejoiced at your expreffing fo feeling a 
fenfe of the benefit of prayer ; and hope you will every 
_ day be more and more raifed to, and united with God, 
by it. - 

I love no myfterious depths, or heights of {pecula- 
tion, covet no knowledge, want to fee no ground of 


nature, grace, and creature, but fo far as it bringsme 


nearer to God, forces me to forget and renounce every 
thing for him, to do every thing in him, and for him ; 
and to give every breathing, moving, ftirring’ inten- 
tion and defire of my heart, foul, fpirit and life to him. 
It is for the fake of the fpirit of prayer, that I have 
endeavoured to fet fo many points of religion in fuch a 
view as mutt difpofe the reader, willingly to give up all 
that he inherits from his fallen father, to be all hunger 


and thirft after God, and have no thought or cate, but. _ i 
how to be wholly his devoted inftrument, every where, — 


and in every thing, his adoring, joyful, and thankful 
- fervant, : 


- 


hed, 


a8 


wid tor 
Pela 


*. 


xxiv SOME. ACCOUNT OF 


When it isthe one ruling, never ceafing defire of our 
hearts, that God may be the beginning and end, the 
reafon and) motive, of our doing or not doing, from 
morning to night; then every where, whether 
or filent, whether inwardly or outwardly employed, we 
are equally offered up to the eternal Spirit, have our 
life m him, and from him, and: are, united to him by 
that fpirit of prayer, which is the comfort, the fupport, 
the ftrength, and fecurity of the foul, travelling, by the 
help of God, through the vanity of time into. the riches: 
of eternity. 

My dear friend, have eyes fhut and ears ftopped, to 
every thing, that is not'a ftep in that ladder that reaches 
from earth to heaven. 

Reading is good, hearing is good, converfation and 
meditation are good ; but then they are only good at 
times and occafions; ima certain degree : and muft be 
ufed and governed with fuch caution, as we eat and 
drink, and refrefh ourfelves, or they will bring forth in 
us the fruits of intemperance, 

But the fpirit of prayer, is for all times, and all occa- 
fions ; ; it is a lamp that is to be always burning, a light 
that is ever fhining : every thing calls for it, every thing 
is to be done in it, and governed by it.. Becaufe it is, 
and means, and wills nothing elfe, but the totality, of 
the foul, not doing this, or that, but wholly,. inceflantly 
given up to God, to be where, and what, and how he 
pleafes. 

This ftate of abfolute refignation,, sath faith, and 
pure love of God, is the higheit perfe&tion and moft pu- 
rified life ; of thofe. who are born again from above, and 
through the Divine Power, become fons of God. And 
is neither more nor lefs, than what our blefled Redeemer 
has called and qualified us to long and afpire after, in 
thefe words, “‘ Thy kingdom come; thy will be done, 
on earth as in heaven. 

Near the conclufion of yours, you fay, fince your laft 
to me, you have met with a great many trials difagree- 
able to flefh and blood, but that adhering to God, is 
always’ your bleffed relief. 

Yet permit me on this occafion, to tranferibe a mem- 


Ch 


THE REV. W. LAW. xX 


orandum or two, from an old {crap of paper, which has 
long lain by me for my own ufe. spo 

‘1. Receive every inward and outward*rouble, every 
difappointment, pain, uneafinefs, darkne{s, temptation, 
and defolation, with both thy hands, as a true opportu- 
nity, and bleffed occafion, of dying to felf, and entering 
into a fuller fellowfhip with thy felf-denying, fuffering 
Saviour. 

2. Look at no inward, or outward trouble, in any 
ether view, reje€t every other thought about it ; and 
then every kind of trial and diftrefs, will become the blefi- 
ed day of thy profperity. 

3. Be afraid of feeking or finding comfort in any 
thing but God alone. For that which gives thee com- 
fort, takes fo much of thy heart from God. “ Quid eft 
cor purum ? cui ex toto, et pure fufficit folus Deus, cui 
nihil fapit, quod nihil dele€tat, nifi Deus.” That is, 
What is a pure heart? One to which God alone is to- 
tally and purely fufficient ; to which nothing relifhes or 
gives delight, but God alone. 

4. That ftate is beft, which exercifeth the higheft 
faith in, and fulleft refignation to God. 

5. What is it that you want and feek, but that God 
may be all in all in you? But how can this be, unlefs 
all creaturely good and evil, become as nothing in you, 
and to you? : 

« Oh anima mea, abftrahe te ab omnibus. Quid tibi 
cum mutabilibus creaturis ? Solum /ponfum tuum, qui om- 
nium eft author creaturarum, expettans, hoc age, ut cor 
tuum ille liberum et expeditum femper inveniat, quoties 
illi ad ipfum venire placuerit.”” That is, O my foul ! 
withdraw thyfelf from all things. What haft thou 
to do with changeable creatures? Waiting and ex- 
peCting thy bridegroom, who is the author of all crea- 
tures, let it be thy only care, that he may find thy 
heart free and difengaged, as often as it fhall pleafe him 
to vifit thee. 

I thank you for your kind offer about the manufcript 
in the fale, but have no curiofity that way. I have had 
all that I can have from books. I leave the reft to God. 


- L have formerly given away many of the lives of good 


Cc 


Armelle, {0 can:have'no diflike to 
I have often wifhed for fome, or | 
that kind, though more acco 
which the meaneft capacities mig 
be led into the heart and {pirit of 
chee Bip, at Sale 


non 


ee 


———_— ee 


Ce 


A 


SERIOUS CALL 
TO A 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 


CHAP. I. 
Concerning the Nature and Extent of Chriftian Devotion. 


DEVOTION is neither private nor public 
prayer; but Prayers, whether private or public, are par- 
ticular parts or inftances of Devotion. Devotion figni- 
fies a life given, or devoted to God. 

He therefore is the devout Man, who lives no longer 
to his own will, or the way and fpirit of the world, but 
to the fole will of God, who confiders God in every 
thing, who ferves God in every thing, who makes all 
the parts of his common life, parts of piety, by domg 
every thing in the name of God, and under fuch rules as 
are conformable to his glory. 

We readily acknowledge, that God alone is to be the 
rule and meafure of our prayers, that in them we are to 
look wholly unto him, and a&t wholly for him, that we 
are only to pray in fuch a manner, for fuch things, and 
fuch ends as are fuitable to his glory. 

Now let any one but find out the reafon why he is to 
be thus ftriétly pious in his prayers, and he will find the 
fame as {trong a reafon to be as ftritly pious in all the 
other parts of his life. For there is not the leaft fhadow 
of a reafon, why we fhould make God the rule and 
meafure of our prayers, why we fhould then look wholl 


unto him, and pray according to his will; but what 


26 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


equally proves it neceffary for us to look wholly unto 
God, and make him the rule and meafure of all the 
other actions of our life. For any ways of life, any em- 
ployment of our talents, whether of our parts, our time 
er money, that is not ftri@tly according to the will of 
God, that is not for fuch ends as are fuitable to his 
glory, are as great abfurdities and failings, as prayers that 
are not according to the will of God. For there is no 
ether reafon, why our prayers fhould be according to the 
will of God, why they fhould have nothing in them, but 
what is wife, and holy, and heavenly, there is no other 
reafon for this, but that our lives may be of the fame na- 
ture, full of the fame wifdom, holinefs and heavenly tem- 
pers, that we may live unto God in the fame fpirit that 
we pray unto him. Were it not our ftri€t duty to live 
by reafon, to devote all the aétions of our lives to God, 
were it not abfolutely neceffary to walk before’ him in 
wifdom and holinefs and all heavenly converfation, doing 
every thing in his name, and for his glory, there would 
be no excellency or wifdom in the moft heavenly prayers. 
Nay, fuch prayers would be abfurdities, they would be 
like prayers for wings, when it was no part of our duty 
to fly. 
hs fure therefore as there is any wifdom in praying 
for the fpirit of God, fo fure is it, that we areto m 
‘ that Spirit the rule of all our actions ; as fure as it is our 
duty to look wholly unto God in our prayers, fo fure is 
it, that it is our duty to live wholly unto God in our 
lives. But we can no more be faid to live unto God, 
unlefs we live unto hiin in all the ordinary a€tions of our 
life, unlefs he be the rule and meafure of all our ways, 
than we can be faid to pray unto God, unlefs our pray- 
ers look wholly unto him. So that unreafonable and 
-abfurd ways «f life, whether in labour or diverfion, 
whether they confume our time or our money, are like — 
unreafonable and abfurd prayers, and are as truly an of- 
fence unto God. sin de 
It is for want of knowing, or at leaft confidering this, 
that we fee fuch a mixture of ridicule in the lives of many 
people. You fee them ftriét as to fome times and 
places of devotion ; but when the Service of the Church» 
is over, they are but like thofe that feldom or met 


a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 27 


- there. In their way of life, their manner of fpending 


\ 


their time and money, in their cares and fears, in their 

ures and indulgences, in their labour and diverfions 
they are like the reft of the world. This makes the loofe 
part of the world generally make a jeft of thofe that are 
devout, becaufe they fee their Devotion goes no far- 
ther than their prayers, and that when they are over, 
they live no more unto God, tillthe time of prayer returns 
again; but live by the fame humour and fancy, and in 
as full an enjoyment of all the follies of life, as other 


' people. This is the reafon why they are the jeft and 


fcorn of carelefs and worldly people ; not becaufe they 
are really devoted to God, but becaufe they appear to 
have no other Devotion, but that of occaficnal Prayers. 

Julius is very fearful of miffing prayers ; allthe parifh 
fuppofes Julius to be fick, if he is not at Church. But 
if you was to afk him why he {pends the reft of his time 
by humour or chance ? why he is a companion of the 
fillieft people in their mot filly pleafures ? why is he 
ready for every impertinent entertainment and diverfion ? 
If you was to afk him why there is no amufement too 
trifling to pleafe him ? why he is bufy at all balls and 
affemblies ? why he gives himfelf up to an idle goffiping 
converfation ? why he lives in foolifh friendfhips and 
fondnefs for particular perfons, that neither want nor 
deferve any particular kindnefs ?, why he allows him- 
felf in foolifh hatreds and refentments againft particu- 
lar perfons, without confidering that he is to love every 
body as himfelf ? If you afk him why he never puts his 
converfation, his time, and fortune, under the rules of 
religion, Julius has no more to fay for himfelf, than the 
mott diforderly perfon. For the whole tenor of Scrip- 
ture lies as dire€tly againft fuch a life, as againft de- 
bauchery and intemperance: He that lives in fuch a 
courfe of idlenefs and folly, lives no more according to 
the religion of Jefus Chrift, than he that lives in gluttony 
and intemperance. 

If a man was to tell Julius that there was no occafion, 
for fo much conftancy at Prayers, and that he might, 


_ without any harm to himfelf, negle& the fervice of the 


~ Church, as the generality of people do, Julius would 


think fuch a one te be no Chriftian, and that he ought 
oe C2 


- 


28 A SERIOUS CALL TO A°- 


to avoid his company. But if a perfon only tells him, 
that he may live as the generality of the world does, that 
he may enjoy himfelf as others do ; that he may fpend 
his time and money as people of fafhion do, that he may 
conform to the follies and frailties of the generality, and 
gratify his tempers and paffions as moft people do, Julius 
never fufpeéts that man to want a chriftian‘{pirit, or that 
he is doing the devil’s work. : 

And yet if Julius was to read all the New Teftament 
from the beginning to the end, he would find his courfe 
of life condemned in every page of it. 

And indeed there cannot any thing be imagined more 
abfurd in itfelf, than wife and fublime, and heavenly 
Prayers added to a life of vanity and folly, where neither 
labour nor diverfions, neither time nor money, are under 
the dire€tion of the wifdom and heavenly tempers of our 
Prayers. If we were to fee a man pretending to a& 
wholly with regard to God in every thing that he did, 
that would neither fpend time or money, or take any 
labour or diverfion, but fo far as he could a& according 
to ftri& principles of reafon and piety, and yet at the 
fame time negle& all prayer, whether public or private, 
fhould we not be amazed at fuch a man, and wonder 
how he could have fo much folly along with fo much 
religion ? “ 

Yet this is as reafonable as for any perfon to pretend 
to itriGinefs in devotion, to be careful of obferving times 
and places of Prayer, and yet letting the reft of his life, 
his time and labour, his talents and money be difpofed 
of, without any regard to ftri& rules of piety and devo- 
‘tion, for it is as great an abfurdity to fuppofe holy pray- 
ers, and divine petitions, without an holinefs of life fuita- 
‘ble to them, as to fuppofe an holy and divine life with- 
out prayers. : 

-, Let any one therefore think, how eafily he could con- 
fute a man that pretended to great ftri€tnefs of hfe with- 
out prayer, and the fame arguments will as plainly con- 
fate another, that pretends to ftri€tnefs of prayer, 
without carrying the fame ftri€tnefs into every other 
part of life. "For to be weak and foolifh in {pending our 
time and fortune, is no greater a miftake, than to be 

~-weak ‘and foolifh in relation to our prayers. And to 


> . 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 29 


allow ourfelves in any ways of life that neither are, nor 
can be offered to God, is the fame irreligion as to negle& 
our prayers, or ufe them in fuch a manner, as makes 
them an offering unworthy of God. 

The fhort of the matter is this, either reafon and re- 
ligion prefcribe rules and ends to all the ordinary ations 
of our life, or they do not : If they do, them it is as ne- 
cefflary to govern all our actions by thofe rules, as it is 
neceflary to worfhip God. For if religion teaches us 
any thing concerning eating and drinking, or {pending 
our time and money, if it teaches us how we Are to ufe 
and contemn the world ; if it tells us what tempers we 
are to have in common life, how we are to be difpofed 
towards all people, how we are to behave towards the 
fick, the poor, the old and deftitute ; if it tells us whom 
we are to treat with a particular love, whom we are to 
regard with a particular efteem : if it tells us how we 
are to treat our enemies, and how we are to mortify and 
deny ourfelves, he may be very weak, that can think 
thefe parts ofreligion are not to be obferved with as 
much exattnefs, as any doGtrine that relate to prayers. 

_ It is very obfervable, that there is not one command 
in ail the gofpel for public worfhip ; and perhaps itis a 
duty that is-leaft infifted upon in {cripture of any other. 
The frequent attendance at it is never fo much as men- 
‘tioned in all the New Teftament. Whereas that relig- 
ion or devotion, which is to govern the ordinary aétions 
of our life, is to be found in almoft every verfe of {crip- 
ture. Our bleffed Saviour and his apoftles are wholly 
taken up in doétrines that relate to common life. They 
call us to renounce the world, and differ in every temper 
and way of life, from the fpirit and way of the world. To 
renounce all its goods, to fear none of its evils, to reje@t 
its joys, and-have no value for its happinefs. To be as new 
born babes, that are bern intova new ftate of things, to 
live as pilgrims in fpiritual watching, in holy fear, and 
heavenly afpiring after another life. 'T’o take up our daily 
-crofs, to deny ourfelves, to profefs the bleffednefs of 
mourning, to feek the bleffednefs of poverty of fpirit. 
_ To forfake the pride and vanity of riches, to take no 
_ +thought for the morrow, to live in the profoundeft ftate 
+ of humility, to rejoice in worldly fufferings. To reje& 


28 ; A SERIOUS CALL TO A~ 


the luft of the flefh, the luft of the eyes, and the pride 
of life ; to bear injuries, to forgive and blefs our ene- 


FA) 


mies, and to love mankind as God loveth them. To’ . 


give up our whole hearts and affections to God, and 


ftrive to enter through the ftrait gate into a life of 


eternal glory. 

This is the common devotion which our bleffed Sa- 
viour taught, in order to make it the common life of all 
chriftians. Is it not therefore exceeding ftrange, that 


people fhould place fo much piety in the attendance of ’ 
public worfhip, concerning which there is not one pre-— 
cept of our Lord’s to be found, and yet negle& thefe’ 


common duties of our ordinary life, which are com- 


manded in every page of ‘the gofpel ? I call thefe duties 


the devotion of our common life, becaufe if they are to” 
be practifed, they muft be made parts of our common: 


life, they can have no place any where elfe. 


If contempt of the world, and heavenly affeCtion, is a 


neceflary temper of Chriftians, it is neceflary that this 


temper appear in the whole courfe of their lives, in their 


manner of ufing the world, becaufe it can have no place 
any where elfe. 

If felf-denial be a condition of falvation, all that 
would be faved muft make it a part of their ordinary 
life. If humility be a chriftian duty, then the common 
life of a Chriftian is to be a conftant courfe of humility 
in all its kinds. If poverty of fpirit be neceflary, it muft 
be the fpirit and temper of every day of our lives. If 
we are to relieve the naked, the fick, and the prifoner, it 
muft be the common charity of our lives, as far as we can 
render ourfelves able to perform it. If we are to love our 
enemies, we mutt make our common life a vifible exer- 

cife and demonftration of that love. If content and 
thankfulnefs, if the patient bearing of evil be duties to 
God, they are the duties of every day, and in every cir- 
eumftance of our life. If we are to be wife and holy as 
the new-born fons of God, we can no otherwife he fo, 


but by renouncing every thing that is foolifh and vain in 


every part of our common life. If we are to be in Chrift 
new Creatures, we mutt fhew that we are fo, oF: having 


new ways of aor in the worlds af we are to follow — 
are » Raped: 5 le 


a ‘ 
fe 


oe 


: 


_ duty, an 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 31 


Chrift, it muft be in our common way of {pending every 
day. th j 
_ Thus it is in all the virtues and holy tempers of chrif- 
‘tianity, they are not ours, unlefs they be the virtues and 
tempers of our ordinary life. So that Chriftianity is fo 
far from leaving us to live in the common ways of life, 
conforming to the folly of cuftoms, and gratifying the 
paffions and tempers which the fpirit of the world de- 
lights in, it is fo far from indulging us in any of thefe 
things, that all its virtues which it makes neceflary to 
falvation, are only fo many ways of living above, and 
coiitrary to the world in all the common adtions of our 
life. If our common life is not a common courfe of hu- 
mility, felf-denial, renunciation of the world, poverty of 
{pirit, and heavenly affeCtion, we do not live the lives of 
Chriftians. , 

But yet though it is thus plain, that this and this alone 
is Chriftianity, an uniform, open, and vifible praétice of 
all thefe virtues ; yet it is as plain, that there is little or 
nothing of this to be found, even amongft the better fort 
-of people. You fee them often at church, and pleafed 
with fine preachers ; but look into their lives, and you 
fee them juft the fame fort of people as others are, that 
make no pretences to devotion. The difference that you 
find betwixt them, is only the difference of their natural 
tempers. ‘They have the fame tafte of the world, the 
fame worldly cares, and fears, and joys; they have the 
fame turn of mind, equally vain in their defires. You 
fee the fame fondnefs for ftate and equipage, the fame 
pride and vanity of drefs, the fame felf-love and indul- 
gence, the fame foolifh friendfhips and groundlefs ha- 
treds, the fame levity of mind and trifling fpirit, the fame 
fondnefs for diverfions, the fame idle difpofitions and 
vain ways of {pending their time in vifiting and conver- 
fation, as the reft of the world, that make no pretences 
to devotion. 

I do not mean this comparifon betwixt people feem- 


_ ingly good and profeffed rakes, but betwixt people of 
 fober lives. Let us take av inftance in two modeft wo- 


men : leteit be fuppofed, that one of them is careful of 
‘times of — and obferves them through a fenfe of 
at the other has no hearty concern about it, 


$2 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


but is at church feldom or often, juit as it happens. — 
Now it is a very eafy thing to fee this difference betwixt _ 
thefe perfons. But when you have feen this, can you 
find any farther difference betwixt them ? Can you find 
that their common life is of a different kind ? Are not 
the tempers, and cuftoms, and manners of the one, of 
the fame kind as of the other? Do they live as if they 
belonged to different worlds, had different views in their 
heads, and different rules and meafures of all their ac- 
tions ? Have they not the fame goods and evils, are they 
not pleafed and difpleafed in the fame manner, and for 
the fame things ? Do they not live in the fame courfe of 
life ? Does one feem to be of this world, looking at the 
things that are temporal, and the other to be of another 
world, looking wholly at the things that are eternal ? 
Does halon’ Eve pleafure, delighting herfelf in thew 
or drefs, and the other liye in felf-denial and mortifica- 
tion, renouncing every thing that looks like vanity either 
of perfon, drefs, or carriage ? Does the one follow pub- 
lic diverfions, and trifle away her time in idle vifits and 
corrupt converfation ; and does the other ftudy all the 
arts of improving her time, living in prayer and watch- 
ing, and fuch good works as may make all her time turn 
to her advantage, and be placed to her account at the laft 
day ? Is the one carelefs of expenfe, and glad to be able 
to adorn herfelf with every coftly ornament of drefs ? 
and does the other confider her fortune as a talent given 
her by God, which is to be improved religioufly, and no © 
more to be {pent in vain and needlefs ornaments, than it 
is to be buried in the earth ? 

Where “muft you look to find one perfon of religion 
differing in this manner, from another that has none ? 
And yet, if they do not differ in thefe things, which are 
here related, can it with any fenfe be faid, the one is a 
good Chriftian and the other not ? 

Take another inftance amongft the men. Leo hasa | 
great deal of good nature, has kept what they call good — 
company, hates every thing that is falfe and bafe ; is very — 
generous and brave to his friends, but has oniceaaed: ts 
himfelf fo little with religion, that he hardly knows the 
difference betwixt a Jew and a Chriftian.” 

Eufebius, on the other hand, has had cat preons 


*, aot a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 33 


‘of religion, and buys books of devotion. He can talk 
of all the feafts and fafts of the church, and knows the 
names of moft men that have been eminent for piety. © 
You never hear him {wear or make a loofe jeft ; and 
when he talks of religion, he talks of it, as of a matter | 
of the laft concern. 

Here you fee that one perfon has Religion enough, 


_ according to the way of the world, to be reckoned a pi- 


ous Chriftian, and the other is fo far from all appearance 
of Religion, that he may fairly be reckoned a Heathen ; 
and yet if you look into their common life, if you exam- 
ine their chief and ruling tempers in the greatelt articles 
of life, or the greateft dotrines of Chriftiaffity, you will 
find the leaft difference imaginable. 

Confider them with regard to the ufe of the world, 
becaufe there is what every body can fee. 

Now to have right notions and tempers with relation 
to this world, is as effential to religion, as to have right 
notions of God. And it is as poffible for a man to wor- , 
fhip a Crocodile, and yet be a pious man, as to have his 
affeGions fet upon this world, and yet be a good Chrif- 
tian. 

But now, if you confider Leo and Eufebius in this re- 
fpe&, you will find them exaétly alike, feeking, ufing, 
and enjoying all that can be got in this world, in the 
fame manner and for the fame ends. You will find that 
riches, profperity, pleafures, indulgences, ftate, equipage, 
and honour are juft as much the happinefs of Eufebius 
as they are of Leo. And yet if Chriftianity has not 
ehanged a man’s mind and temper with relation to thefe © 
things, what can we fay that it has done for him? 

For if the doétrines of Chriftianity were practifed, 
they would make a man as different from other people 


asto all worldly tempers, fenfual pleafures, and the 


; 


pride of life, as a wife man is different from a natural ; it 
would be as eafy a thing to know a Chriftian by his out- 
ward courfe of life, as it is now difficult to find any body 
that lives it. For it is notorious that Chriftians are 


_ now not only like other men in their frailties and infir- 
: “Saab ang might be in fome degiee excufable ; but the 


mplaint is, they are like heathens in all the main and 
uief articles of their lives. They enjoy the world, and 


Pn > o 


Hye 


Rey 4 


34 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


live every day in the fame tempers, and the fame defigns, 
and the fame indulgences, as they did who knew not 
God, nor of any happinefs in another life. Every body, 
that is capable of any reflection, muft have obferved, 
that this is generally the ftlate even of devout people, 
whether men or women. You may fee them different 
from other people fo far as to times and places of Pray- 
er, but generally like the reft of the world in all the other 
parts of their lives. That is, adding Chriftian Devo- 
tion to an Heathen life: I have the authority of our 
Bleffed Saviour for this remark, where he fays, Take no 
thought, faying what fhall we eat, or what foall we drink, 
er wherewithal fhall we be cloathed ? for after all thefe 
things do the Gentiles feek. But if to be thus affected 
even with the neceflary things of this life, fhews that we 
are not yet of a Chriftian Spirit, but are like the Hea- 
thens ; furely to enjoy the vanity and folly of the world 
as they did, to be like them in the main chief tempers of 
eur lives, in felf-love and indulgence, in fenfual pleafures 
and diverfions, in the vanity of drefs, the love of thew 
and greatnefs, or any other gaudy diftinétion of fortune, 
is a much greater’ fign of an Heathen temper. And 


confequently they who add Devotion to fuch a life, 


muft be faid to pray as Chriftians, but live as Heathens. 


~—~<o— 


CHAP. II. 


An Inquiry into the Reafon, why the generality of Chrif- 
tians fall fo far foort of the Holinefs and Devotion of 
Chriftianity. : 


IT may now be reafonablf¥ inquired, how it 
comes to pafs, that the lives even of the better fort of 
people are thus ftrangely contrary to the principles of 
Chrittianity. ‘ by BEER 

But before I give a direét anfwer to this, I defire it 
may alfo be inquired, how it comes to pafs that {wearing 
is fo common a vice amongft Chriftians 5 it is indeed 
not yet fo common amongtt women, as it is amongft 


k 


t 


* 


\ DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 85 


mens *But amongf men this fin is fo common,’ that 
perhaps there are more than two in three that are guilty 


of it through the whole courfe.of their lives, {wearing 


more or lefs, juft as it happens, fome conitantly, others 


_only now and-then, as it were by chance. Now I afk 


how comes it that two in three of the men are guilty of 
fo grofs and profane a fin as this? There is neither ig- 
norance nor human infirmity to plead for it: Itis againft 


_anexprefs commandment, and the moft plain doctrine 


of our bleffed Saviour. 

Do but now find the reafon why the generality of men 
live in this notorious vice, and then you will have found 
the reafon why the generality even of the better fort of 
people live fo contrary to Chriftianity. 

Now the reafon of common {wearing is this : It is be- 
caufe men have not fo much as the intention to pleafe 
God in all their aGiions. For let a man but have fo 
much piety as to intend to pleafe God in all the a€tions 
of his life, as the happieft and beft thing in the world, 
and then he will never {wear more. It will be as impof- 


‘ fible for him to fwear, whilf he feels this intention 


within himfelf, as it is impoffible for a man that in- 
tends to pleafe his Prince, to go up and abufe him to his 
face. a 

It feems but a fmall and neceflary part of piety to 
have fuch a fincere intention as this; and that he has 
no reafon to look upon himfelf as a Difciple of Chrift, 
who is not thus far advanced in piety. And yet it is 
purely for want of this degree of piety, that you fee fuch 
a mixture of fin and folly in the lives even of the better 
fort of people. {tis for want of this intention that you 
fee men that profefs religion, yet live in {wearing and 
fenfuality ; that you fee Clergymer given to pride and 
eovetoufnefs, and worldly enjoyments. It is for want ™ 
of this intention, that you fee women that profefs de- 
votion, yet living in all the folly and vanity. of drefs, 
wafting their time in idlenefs and pleafure, and in all 
fuch inftances of ftate and equipage as their eftates will 


reach. For let but a woman feel her heart full of this 


- 


intention, and fhe will find it as impoffible to patch or 
paint, as to curfe or fwear; fhe will no more defire to 


thine at balls and affemblies, er make a figure amongft 
: -D 


" r 4 f 7 


36 A SERIOUS CALL TO A_ 


thofe that are moft finely dreffed, than the will defire to 
dance upon a rope to pleafe fpe€tators : She will know | 
that the one is as far from the wifdom and excellency of 
the Chriftian Spirit, as the other. 

It was this general attention that made the primitive 
Chriftians fych” eminent inftances of piety, that made 
the gocdlygfellowfhip of the Saints, and all the glorious . 
army of magys and confeffors. And if you will here 
ftop and afk yourfelf why you are not as pious as the — 
primitive-Chriftians were, your own heart will tell you | 
that it is neither through ignorance nor inability, but © 
purely becaufe you never thoroughly intended it. You 
obferve the fame Sunday-worfhip that they did; and you 
are ftri& in it, becaufe it is your full intention to be 
fo. And when you as fully intend to be like them in 
their ordinary common life, when you intend to pleafe 

od in all your ations, you will find it as poffible-as to 
be itriGly exa& in the fervice of the Church. And 
when you have this intention to pleafe God in all your 
aétions, as the happieft and beft things in the world, you 
will find in you as great an averfion to every thing that 
is vain and impertinent in common life, whether of bufi- 
nefs or pleafure, as you now have to any thing that is 
profane. You will be as fearful of living in any fool- 
ifh way, either of fpending your time or your fortune, 
-y you are now fearful of negleéting the public Wor- 

hip. 

Now who that wants this general fincere intention, 
can be reckoned a Chriftian ? And yet if it was amongit 
Chriftians, it would change the whole face of the 
world ; true piety and exemplary holinefs would be as 

~ common and vifible as buying and felling, or any trade 


“in life. | 
+ Let a Clergyman be but thus pious, and he will con- 
verfe as if he had been brought up by an Apoitle; he 
will no more think and talk of noble preferment, than of 
noble eating or a glorious chariot. He will no-more ~ 
complain of the frowns of the world, or a fmall cure, or _ 
the want of a patron, than he will complain of the want _ 
of a laced coat, or a running horfe. Let him but intend : 
to pleafe God in all his a¢tions, as the happieft and beft 
thing in the world, and then he will knew that there is j 


dé 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 37 


nothing noble in a Clergyman, but burning zeal for the 
falvation of fouls ; nor any thing poor in his profeffion, 
but idlenefs and a worldly Spirit. 

Again, let a Tradefman have this intention, and it 
will make him a faint in his fhop ; his every day bufinefs 
will be a courfe of wife and reafonable aétions, made 
holy to God, by being done in obedience to his will and 
pleafure. He will buy and fell, and labour and travel, 
becaufe by fo doing he can do fome good fo himfelf and 
others. But then, as nothing can pleafe God but what 
is wife, and reafonable, and holy, fo he will neither buy, 
nor fell, nor labour in any other manner, nor to any 
other end, but fuch as may be fhewn to be wife and rea- 
fonable and holy. He will therefore confider not what 
arts, or methods, or application, will fooneft make him 
richer and greater than his brethren, or remove him from 
a fhop to a life of ftate and pleafure ; but he will confid- 
der what arts, what methods, what application can make 
worldly bufinefs moft acceptable to God, and make a 
life of trade a life of holinefs, devotion, and piety. This 
‘will be the temper and fpirit of every tradefman ; he 
cannot ftop fhort of thefe degrees of piety, whenever it 
is his intention to please God in all his a¢tions, as the 
beft and happieft thing in the world. : 

And on the other hand, whoever is not of this fpirit 
and temper in his trade and profeffion, and does not car- 
ry it on only fo far as is beft fubfervient to a wife and 
holy and heavenly life ; it is certain that he has not this 
intention ; and yet without it, who can be fhewn to be 
a follower of Jefus Chrift ? 

Again, let the Gentleman of birth and fortune but 
have this intention, and you will fee how it will carry 
him from every appearance of evil, to every inftance of 
piety and goodneis. 

He cannot live by chance, or as humour and fancy 
carries him, becaufe he knows that nothing can pleafe 


_ God but a wife and regular courfe of life. He, cannot, 
- live in idlenefs and indulgence, in {ports and gaming, in 


pleafures and intemperance, in vain expenfes and high 
living ; becaufe thefe things cannot be turned into means 


of piety andeholinefs, or made fo many parts of a wife 


and religious life, 


38 A SERIOUS CALL TOA _ 


As he thus removes from all appearance of evil, fo he 
haftens and afpires after every inftance of goodnefs. He 
does not afk what is allowable and pardonable, but what 
is commendable and praife-worthy. He does not afk 
whether God will forgive the folly of our Lives, the 
madnefs of our pleafures, the vanity of our expenfes, 
the richnefs of our equipage, and the carelefs confump- 
tion of our time ; but he afks whether God is pleafed 
with thefe things, or whether thefe are the appointed 
ways of gaining his favour. He does not inquire 
whether it be pardonable to hoard up money to adorn our- 
felves with diamonds, and gild our chariots, whilft the 
widow and the orphan, the fick and the prifoner want to 
be relieved ; but he afks whether God has required thefe 
things at our hands, whether we fhall be called to ac- 
count at the laft day for the negle&t of them, becaufe 
it is not his intent to live in fuch ways as, for aught we 
know, God may perhaps pardon ; but to be diligent 
in fuch ways, as we know that God will infallibly re- 
ward. . 

He will not therefore look at the lives of Chriftians, 
to learn how he ought to fpend his eftate ; but he will 
look into the Scriptures, and make every do€trine, para- 
ble, precept, or inftru€tion that relates to rich men, a 
law to himfelf in the ufe of his eftate. 

He will have nothing to do with coftly apparel, be- 
caufe the rich man in the Gofpel was clothed with pur- 
ple and fine linen. He denies himfelf the pleafures and 
indulgences which his eftate could procure, becaufe our 
Blefled Saviour faith, Wo unto you that are rich, for ye 
have received your confolation. He will have but one rule 
for charity, and that will be, to fpend all that he can 
that way ; becaufe the judge of quick and dead hath 
faid, that all is fo given, is given to him. — 

He will have no hofpitable table for the rich and weal- 
thy to come and feaft with him in good eating and 
drinkinge: becaufe our Blefled Lord faith, When thou 
makeft a dinner, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, nei- 
ther thy kinfmen, nor thy rich neighbours, left they alfo bid 
thee again, and a recompenfe be made thee. But when thow 
makeft a feaft, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, 
and thou fhalt be blefed. For they cannot recompenfe theey 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 39 


for thou fhalt be recompenfed at the refurreZion of the juft, 
Luke xiv. 12, 13, 14. 

He will wafte no money in gilded roofs or coftly fur- 
niture : He will not be carried from pleafure to pleafure 
in expenfive ftate and equipage, becaufe an infpired 
Apoftle hath faid, that all that is in the world, the luit 
of the flefh, the luft of the eycs, and the pride of life, is 
not of the Father, but is of the world. 

Let not any one look upon this as an imaginary de- 
{cription of charity, that looks fine in the notion, but 
cannot be put in practice. For it is fo far from being 
an imaginary impra¢ticable form of life, that it has been 
praGtifed by great numbers of Chriftians in former ages, 
who were glad to turn their whole eftates into a conftant 
courfe of charity. And it is fo far from being impofii- 
ble now, that if we can find any Chriftians, that fin- 
cerely intend to pleafe God in all their aétions as the beft 

_ and happieft thing in the world, whether they be young 
or old, fingle or married, men or women, if they have 
but this intention, it will be impoflible for them to do 
otherwife. This one principle will infallibly carry them 
to this height of charity, and they will find themfelves 
unable to ftop fhort of it. 

For how is it poflible for a man that intends to pleafe 
God in the ufe of his money, and intends it becaufe he 
judges it to be his greate{t happinefs, how is it poflible 
for fuch a one in fuch a ftate of mind, to bury his 
money in needlefs impertinent finery, in covering himfelf 
or his horfes with gold, whilft there are any works of 
piety and charity to be done with it, or any ways of 
{pending it well ? 

This is as ftri€tly impoffible as for a man that intends 
to pleafe God in his words, to go mto company on pur- 
pole to fwear and lie. For as all wafte and unreafona- 
ble expenfe is done defignedly and with deliberation, fo 
no one can be guilty of it, whofe conftant intention is to 
pleafe God in the ufe of his money. _ 

I have chofe to explain this matter by appealing to 
“this intention, becaufe it makes the cafe fo plain, and 
becaufe every one that has a mind, may fee it in the 
cleareft light and feel it in the ftrongeft manner; only 

by looking into his own heart. For it is. as eafy for 

: D2 


“se 
40 A SERIOUS CALL TO be 


every perfon to know, whether he intends to pleafe God 
in all his aétions ; as for any fervant to know whether 
this be his intention towards his mafter. Every one alfo 
can as eafily tell how he lays out his money, and 
whether he confiders how to pleafe God in it, as he can 
tell where his eftate is, and whether it be in money or 
land. So that here is no piea left for ignorance or frailty, 
as to this matter, every body is in the light, and every 
body has power. And no one can fall, but he that is 
not fo much a Chriftian as to intend to pleafe God in 
the ufe of his eftate. 

You fee two perfons, one is regular in public and pri- 
vate Prayer, the other is not. Now the reafon of this 
difference is not this, that one has ftrength and power 
to obferve Prayer, and the other has not; but the rea- 
fon is this, that one intends to pleafe God in the duties 
of devotion, and the other has no intention about it. 
Now the cafe is the fame in the right or wrong ufe of 
our time and money. You fee one perfon throwing 
away his time in fleep and idlenefs, in vifiting and di- 
verfions, and his money in the moft vain and unreafon- 
able expenfes. You fee another careful of every day, 
dividing his hours by rules of reafon and religion, 
and fpending all his money in works of charity ; now 
the difference is not owing to this, that one has itrength 
and power to do thus, and the other has not 3 but it is 
owing to this, that one intends to pleafe God in the right 
ufe of all his time and all his money, and the other has 
no intention about it. 

Here therefore let us judge ourfelves fincerely, let us 
not vainly content ourfelves with the common diforders 
of our lives, the vanity of our expenfes, the folly of our 
diverfions, the pride of our habits, the idlenefs of our 
lives, and the wafting of our time, fancying that thefe 
are fuch imperfections as we fall into through the una- 
voidable weaknefs and frailty of our natures ; but let us 
be affured, that thefe diforders of our common life are 
owing to this, that we have not fo much'chriftianity as 
to intend to pleafe God in all the aétions of our life, as 
the beft and happieft thing in the world. So that we 
muit not look upon ourfelves in a ftate of common and 
pardonable imperfeCtion, but in fuch a ftate as wants the 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 4l 


firft and moft fundamental principle of Chriftianity, viz. 
an intention to pleafe God in all our ations. 

And if any one was to afk himfelf, how it comes to 
pais that there are any degrees of fobriety which he ne- 
gleéts, any practice of humility which he wants, any 
methods of charity which he does not follow, any rules 
of redeeming time which he does not obferve, his own 
heart will tell him, that it is becaufe he never intended 
to be fo exaét in thofe duties. For whenever we fully 
intend it, it is as poffible to conform to all this regulari-~ 
ty of life, as it is poffible for a man to obferve times of 
prayer. 

So that the fault does not lie here, that we defire to 
be good and perfeét, but through the weaknefs of our 
nature fall fhort of it ; but it is becaufe we have not 
piety enough to intend to be as good as we can, or to 
pleafe God in all the ations of our life. This we fee 
is plainly the cafe of him that {pends his time in fports, 
when he fhould be at church ; it is not his want of 
power, but his want of intention or defire to be there. 

And the cafe is plainly the fame in every other folly 

of human life. She that {pends her time and money 
in the unreafonable ways and fafhions of the world, does 
not do fo, becaufe fhe wants power to be wife and re- 
ligious in the management of her time and money ; but 
becaufe fhe has no intention or defire of being fo. When 
fhe feels this intention, fhe will find it as poffible to a& 
up to it, as to be ftri€ly fober and chafte, becaufe it is 
her care and defire to be fo. 
- This do€trine does not fuppofe that we have no need 
of divine grace, or that it is our own power to make 
ourfelves perfe&t. It only fuppofes that through the 
want of a fincere intention of pleafing God in all our ac- 
tions, we fall into fuch irregularities of life, as by the 
ordinary means of grace we fhould have power to 
avoid. 

And that we have not that perfection, which our pref- 
_ ent ftate of grace makes us capable of, becaufe we do 
not fo much as inte: 1to have it. 

It only teaches us that the reafon why you fee no real 
mortification or felf-denial, no eminent charity, no pro- 
found humility, no heavenly affetion, no true contempt 


42. A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


of the world, no Chriftian meeknefs, no fincere zeal, no 

eminent piety in the common lives of Chriftians ; is this, 

bere they do not fo much as intend to be exat and 
exemplary in thefe virtues. ss 


-_~+>>— 


CHAP. III. 


Of the great Danger and Folly of not intending tobeas 
eminent and exemplary as we can, in the Praice of all 
Chriftian Pirtues. 


ALTHOUGH the goodnefs of God, and his 
rich mercies in Chrift Jefus are a fufficient affurance to 
us, that he will be merciful to our unavoidable weak- 
nefles and infirmities, that is, to fuch failings as are — 
the effets of ignorance or furprife ; yet we have no s 
reafon to expect the fame mercy towards thofe fins which 
we have lived in, through a want of intention to avoid 
them. 

For inftance, the cafe of a common fwearer, who dies — 

in that guilt, feems to have no title tothedivine mercy; 
for this ‘reafon, becaufe he can no more plead any weak- ’ 
nefs or infirmity in his excufe, than the man a hidhis ” : 


oe oe 


talent in the earth, could plead his want of ftrength to 
keep it out of the canth. 

But now, if this be right reafoning, the cafe of a 
common fwearer, that his fn is not to be reckoned a 
pardonable frailty, becaufé he has no weaknefs to plead 
in its excufe ; why then do we not carry this way of 
reafoning to its true extent? Why don’t we as much 
condemn every one other error of life that has no more 
weaknefsto plead in its excufe than common fivearin ; 

For if this be fo bad a thing, becaufe gly ‘ 
avoided, if we did but fincerely intend it, muft aot then 
all other erroneous ways of life be ve 4 
live in them, not through weaknefs and tei bate, 
caufe we never fincerely intended to avoid them ? ; 

For inftance, you perhaps have made no progrefs in 
the moft important — ee i 
a 


i 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 43 


— way in humility and charity: now if your 

e in thefe duties is purely owing to your want of 

_ intention of performing them in any true degree, have 
you not then as little to plead for yourfelf, and are 
you. not as much without all excufe as the common 
{wearer ? 

Why; therefore, don’t you prefs thefe things home - 
upon your confcience ? Why do you not think it as dan- 
gerous for you to live in fuch defe€ts as are in your 
power to amend, as it is dangerous for 2 common fwear- 
er to live in the breach of that duty, which it is im his 
power to obferve ? Is not negligence and a want of a 

_ fincere intention as blameable in one cafe as in another~? 
| You, it may be, are as far from Chriftian perfe&ion, 
as the common fwearer is from keeping the third Com- 
mandment ; are you not therefore as much eondemned 
by the doétrines of the Gofpel, as the fwearer is by the 
third Commandment ? 
You perhaps will fay, that all people fall fhort of the 
_ perfeétion of the Gofpel, and therefore you are content 
with your failings. But this is faying nothing to the 
) purpofe. For the queftion is not whether Gofpel per- 
fection, be fully attained ; but whether you come as 
near it as a fincere intention, and careful diligence can 
| @carry you. Whether you are not ina much lower ftate 
~~ than you might be, if you fincerely intended and care- 
fully laboured to advance yourfelf in all Chriftian vir- 
+ tunes. 
If you are as forward in the Chriftian life as your beft 
endeavours can make you, then you may juitly hope 
- that your imperfections will not be laid to your charge ; 
but if your defects in piety, humility, and charity, are 
owing to your negligence and want of fincere attention 
to be as eminent as you can in thefe virtues, then you 
leave yourfelf as much without excufe as he that lives 
in the fin of fwearing, through the want of a fincere in- 
tention to depart from it. 
| The falvation of our fouls is fet forth in Scripture as 
_ athing of difficulty, that requires all our diligence, that 
_ is tobe worked out with fear and trembling. ‘ 
-We are told, that ffrait is the gate and narrow is the 
\ way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. 


$ 


a t= 


43 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


That many are called but few are chofen. And thatmany 
will mifs of their falvation, who feem to have taken 
fome pains to obtain-it. As in thefe words, Siriveto 
enter in at the ftrait gate, for many, I fay unto you, will 
feek to enter in, and fhall not be able. Pat 

Here our bleffed Lord commands us to ftrive to enter 

in; becaufe many will fail, who only feek to enter. 
By which we are plainly taught, that religion is a ftate 
of labour and ftriving, and that many will fail of their 
falvation ; not becaufe they took no care or pains about 
it, but becaufe they did not take pains and care enough ; 
they only fought, but did not ftrive to enter in. 

Every Chriitian, therefore, fhould as well examine his 
life by thefe Do€trines, as by the commandments. For 
thefe Doétrines are as plain marks of our condition, as 
the commandments are plain marks of our duty. . 

For if falvation is only given to thofe who ftrive for 
it, then it is as reafonable for me to confider whether 
my courfe of life be a courfe of ftriving to obtain it, as 
to confider whether I am keeping any of the Command- 
ments. 

If my Religion is only a formal compliance with thofe 
modes of worfhip that are in fafhion where I live ; if it 
cofts me no pains or trouble, if it lays me under no rules 
and reftraints, if I have no careful thoughts and fober .— 
reflections about it, is it not great weaknefs to think 
that I am frriving to enter in at the ftrait gate. | 

_ If Iam feeking every thing that can delight my fenfes 
and regale my appetites ; {pending my time and for- 
- tune im pleafures, in diverfions, and worldly enjoyments, 
a ftranger to watchings, faftings, prayers, and morti- 
fications, how can it be faid that I am working out my 
Jfalvaticn with fear and trembling 2? “ 7 

If there is nothing in my life and converfation’ that - 
fhew me to be different from the Jews and Heathens ; 
if I ufe the world, and worldly enjoyments, as the gen- 
erality of people now do, and in all ages have done, why 
fhould I think that I am amongft thofe few, whg < 
walking in the narrow way-to Heaven ? - m=" 

And yet if the way is narrow, if none can walk in # 
but thofe that ftrive, is it not as neceflary for meto — 
confider whether the way I am in be narrow enough 5 — 


“ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 45 


or the labour I take be a fufficient ftriving, as to confider 
whether I fufficiently obferve the fecond or third Com- 
mandment ? 

The fum of this matter is this : From the above-men- 

tioned, and many other pafflages of Scripture, it feems 
plain, that our falvation depends upon the fincerity and 
perfetion of our endeavours to obtain it. — 

Weak and imperfect men fhall, notwithftanding their 
frailties and defe€ts, be received, as having pleafed God, 
if they have done their utmoft to pleafe him. 

The rewards of charity, piety, and humility, will be 
given to thofe whofe lives have been a careful labour 
to exercife thefe virtues in as high a degree as they 
could. 

We cannot offer to God the fervice of angels; we 
cannot obey him as man in a ftate of perfeCtion could ; 
but fallen men can do their beft, and this is the perfec- 
tion that is required of us; it is only the perfection of 
our beft endeavours, a careful labour to be as perfect as 
we can. 

But if we ftop fhort of this, for aught we know, we 
‘ftop fhort of the mercy of God, and leave ourfelves 
nothing to plead from the terms of the Gofpel. For 
God has there made no promifes of mercy to the floth- 
ful and negligent. His mercy is only offered to our frail 
and imperfect, but beft endeavours to practife all man- 
ner of righteoufnefs. 

As the law to angels is angelical righteoufnefs, as the 
law to perfe@ beings is ftridt perfeftion, fo the law to 
our imperfeé natures is the beft obedience that our frail 
nature is able to perform. 

The meafure of our love to God feems in juttice: to 
be the meafure of our love of every virtue. We are to . 
love and praétife it with all our heart, with all our foul, 
with all our mind, and with all our ftrength. And when 

we ceafe to live with this regard to virtue, we live below 
_. our nature, and inftead of being able* to plead our infir- 
_ Mities, we ftand chargeable with negligence. 
ae is for this reafon that we are exhorted to work out 
Jour falvation with fear and trembling ; becaufe unlefs 
- our heart and paffions are eagerly bent upon the work 
of our falvation ; unlefs holy fears animate our endeav- 


Bi cite, ci 
46° A SERIOUS CALL 'TO ae 


ours, and keep our confciences ftriét and tender about 
every part of our duty, conftantly examining how we © 
live, and how fit we are to die : we fhall in at | probabil. 
ity fall into a ftate of negligence, and fit down in fuch 

a courfe of life as will never carry us to the rewards of 
heaven. 

And he that confiders that a jut God can only make 
fuch allowances as are fuitable to his juftice, that our 
works are all to be examined by fire, will find that fear 
and trembling are proper tempers for thofe that are 
drawing near fo great a trial. 

And indeed there is no probability that any one 
fhould do all the duty that isexpeéted from him, or _ 
make that progrefs in piety which the holinefs and juf- 
tice of God requires of him ; but he that is conftantly 
afraid of falling thort of it. 

Now this is not intended to poffefs people’s minds 
with a {crupulous- anxiety, and difcontent in the fervice 
of God, but to fill them with a juft fear of living in 
floth and idlenefs, and in the negle& of fuch virtues as 

they will want at the day of judgment. 

It is to excite them to an earneft examination of theit 
lives, to fuch zeal, and care, and concern after chrift- 
ian perfe€tion, as they ufe in any matter that has gain- 
ed their heart and affeGtions. 

It is only defirmg them to be fo apprehenfive of their — 
ftate, fo humble in the opinion of themfelves, fo earn- 
eft after higher degrees of piety, and fo fearful of fall- 
ing fhort of happinefs, as the great apoftle St. Paul was, 
when he thus wrote to the Philippians. 

«< Not as though I had already attained, either were al- 
ready perfe—but this one thing I do, forgetting thofe 
things which are behind, and reaching forth unto thofe 
things which are before : I prefs toward the mark for 
the prize of the high calling of God in Chrift Jefus.” 
And then he adds, “let us therefore, as many as are aa 
fe&, be thus minded.” 

But now, if the apoftle thought it neceflary for thofe, . 
who were in his ftate of perfetion, to be thus minded ; 
that is, thus labouring, prefling and afpiring after fome | 
degrees of holinefs, to which they were not then arrived 5 
furely it is much more neceflary for us, who are born 


ey 


a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 47 


in the dregs of time, and labouring under great imper- 
fe&tions, to be thus minded ; that is, thus earneft and 
Rriving after fuch degrees of a holy and divine life, as 
we have not yet attained. 

The beft way for any one to know how much he 
ought to afpire after holinefs, is to confider not how 
much will make his prefent life eafy ; but to afk him- 
felf how much ke thinks will make him eafy at the hour 
of death. | 

Now any man that dares be ferious as to put this 
quettion to himfelf will be forced to anfwer that at death 
every one will with that he had been as perfe&t as human 
nature can be. ‘ 

Is not this therefore fufficient to put us not only upon 
withing, but labouring after all that perfeGtion which we 
fhall then lament the want of ? Is it not exceffive 
folly to be content with fuch a courfe of piety when we 
fhall fo want it, as to have nothing elfe to comfort us ? 
How can we carry a feverer condemnation againft our- 
felves, than to believe that at the hour of death we ‘hall * 
want the virtues of the faints, and wifh that we had 
been amongtt the firft fervants of God, and yet take no 
methods of arriving at their height of piety, whilt we 
are alive ? 

‘Though this is an abfurdity that we can eafily pafs 
over at prefent, whilft the health of our bodies, the paf- ° 
fions of our minds, the noife, and hurry, and pleafures, 
and bufinefs of the world, lead us on with eyes that fee 
not, and ears that hear not ; yet at death, it will fet it- 
felf before us in a dreadful magnitude, it will haunt us 
like a difmal ghoft, and-our confcience will never let us 
take our eyes from it. 

We fee in worldly matters, what a torment felf-con- 
demnation is ; and how hardly a man is able to forgive 
himfelf, when he has brought himfelf into any calamity 
or difgrace, purely by his own folly. The affliGtion is 
made doubly tormenting ; becaufe he is forced to charge 
it all upon himfelf, as his own a& and deed, againft the 

‘Mature and reafon of things, and contrary te the advice 


| of all his friends. 


__ Now by this we may in fome degree guefs how ter- 
tible the pain of that felf-condemnation will be, when 


48 A SERIOUS CALL'TO A 


a man fhall find himfelf in the miferies of death, under 
the feverity of a felf-condemning confcience ; charging 
all his diftrefs upon his own folly and madnefs, againit 
the fenfe and reafon of his own mind, againft all the 
do€trines and precepts of religion, and contrary to all 
the inftrutions, calls and warnings both of God and 
man. 

Penitens was a bufy notable tradefman, and very prof- 
perous in his dealings ; but died in the thirty-fifth year, 
of his age. “ 

A little before his death, when the doGtors had given 
him over, fome of his neighbours came one evening to 
fee him ; at which time, he fpake thus to them : 

“‘ I fee, fays he, my friends, the tender concern you 
have for me, by the grief that appears in your coun- 
tenances, and I know the thoughts that you now have 
about me. You think how melancholy a cafe it is to 
fee fo young a man, and in fuch flourifhing bufinefs, 
delivered up to death. And perhaps, had I vifited any. 
of you in my condition, I fhould have had the fame 
thoughts of you. 

But now, my friends, my thoughts are no more like 
your thoughts, than my condition is like yours. 

It is no trouble to me now to think that I am to die 
young, or before I have raifed an eftate. 

Thefe things are now funk into fuch mere nothings, 
that I have no name little enough to calkthem by. For 
if in a few days, or hours, I am to leave this carcafs to 
be buried in the earth, and to find myfelf either for ever 
happy in the favour of God, or eternally feparated from 
all light and peace, can any words fufficiently exprefs the 
littlenefs of every thing elfe ? ey 

Is there any dream like the dream of life, which 
amufes us with the negle&t and difregard of thefe things ? 
Ts there. any folly like the folly of our manly ftate, 
which is too wife and bufy, to. be at leifure for thefe re- 
fleCtions ? ee) ; tpl 

When we confider death as a mifery, ‘we only think 
of it as a miferable feparation from the enjoyments of — 
this life. We feldom mourn over an old man that dies — 


rich ; but we lament the young, that are taken away in — 
the progrefs of their fortune. You yourfelves look upon 


~ apartment ? 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 49 


_me with pity, not that I am going unprepared to meet 


the Judge of quick and dead ; but that I am to leavea 
profperous trade in the flower of my life. 

This is the wifdom of our manly thoughts. And yet 
what folly of the fillieft children is fo great as this ? 

For what is there miferable or dreadful in death, but 
the confequences of it ? When aman is dead, what 
does any thing fignify to him, but the ftate he is then 
in ? 

Our- poor friend Lepidus died, you know, as he was 
drefling himfelf for a feaft ; do you think it is now part 
of his trouble that he did not live till that entertainment 
was over? Feafts, and bufinefs, and pleafures, and en- 
joymeénts, feem great things to us, whilft we think of 
nothing elfe ; but as foon as we add death to them, they 
all fink into an equal littlenefs ; and the foul that is fep- 
arated from the body, no more laments the lofs of bufi- 
nefs than the lofing of a featt. & “ 

If I am going into the joys of God, could there be 


- any reafon to grieve, that this happened to me before I 


was forty yearsof age ? Could it be a fad thing to go 
to heaven before I had made a few more bargains, or 
ftood a little longer behind a counter ? 

And if I am to go amongtt loft fpirits, could there be 
any reafon to be content, that this did not happen to me 
till I was old and full of riches ? 

If good angels were ready to receive my foul, could it 
be any grief to me, that I was dying upon a poor bedin 
a garret ? 

And if God has delivered me up to evil fpirits, to be 
dragged by them to places of torments, could it be any 
comfort to me, that they found me upon a bed of fate ? 

When you are as near death as Iam, you will know 
that all the different ftates of life, whether of youth or 
age, riches or poverty, greatnefs or meannefs fignify no 
more to you, than whether you die in a poor or ftately 
~ 


The greatnefs of thofe things which follow death, 


_ makes all that goes before it fink into nothing. 


Now that judgment is the next thing that I look for, 
and everlafting happinefs or mifery is come fo near 
me, all the enjoyments and profperities of life feem 


50 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


as vain and infignificant, and to have no more to do with 
my happinefs, than the clothes that I wore before I 
could fpeak. 

But, my friends, how am I furprifed that I have not 
always had thefe thoughts ? for what is there in the ter- 
rors of death, in the vanities of life, or the neceffities of 
piety, but what I might have as eafily and fully feen in 
any part of my life ? 

What a ftrange thing is it, that a little health, or the 
poor bufinefs of a fhop, fhould keep us fo fenfelefs of 
thefe great things that are coming fo faft upon us ! 

Juft as you came into my chamber, I was thinking 
with myfelf, what numbers of fouls there are now in 
the world, in my condition at this very time, furprifed 
with a fummons to the other world : fome taken from 
their fhops and farms, others from their {ports and pleaf- 
ures, thefe at fuits at law, thofe at gaming tables, fome 
on the road, others at their own fire-fides, and all feized 
at an hour when they thought nothing of it ; frighted at 
the approach of death, confounded at the vanity of all 
their labours, defigns, and projeéts, aftonifhed at the 
folly of their paft lives, and not knowing which way to 
turn their thoughts, to find any comfort. Their con- 
fciences flying in their faces, bringing all their fins to 
their remembrance, tormenting them with deepeit con- 
vidtions of their own folly, prefenting them with the 
fight of the angry judge, the worm that never dies, the 
fire that is never quenched, the gates of hell, the powe: 
of darknefs, and the bitter pains of eternal death. ca 

Oh my friends | blefs God that you are not of this” 
number, you have time and ftrength to employ 
yourfelyes in fuch works of piety as may iets you, 
peace at the lait. 

And take this along with you, that there is nothing é 
but a life of great piety, or a death of great ftupidity, 
that can keep off thefe apprehenfions. ' 

Had I now a thonfand worlds, I would give them. all 
for one year more, that I might prefent unto God one 
year of fuch devotion and good works, as I never before _ 
fo much as intended. Mg 
_ You perhaps, when you confider that I have lived ‘free 

from fcandal and debauchery, and in the communion of " 


~ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFS 51 


the church, wonder to fee me fo full of remorfe and felf- 
condemnation at the approach of death. 

But alas ! what a poor thing is it, to have lived only 
free from murder, theft and adultery, which is all that I 
can fay of myfelf. 

You know indeed, that I have never been reckoned a 
fot, but you are at the fame time witnefles, and have 
been frequent companions of my intemperance, fenfuali- 
ty, and great indulgence. 

And if I am now going to a judgment, where nothing 
will be rewarded but good works, I may well be concern- 
ed, that though I am no fot, yet I have no chriftian fo- 
briety to plead for me. 

It is true, I have lived in the communion of the church, 
and generally frequented its worfhip and fervice on Sun- 
days, when I was neither too idle, or not otherwife dif- 
pofed of by my bufinefs and pleafures. But then, my 
conformity to the public worfhip has been rather a thing 
of courfe, than any real intention of doing that, which 
the fervice of the church fuppofes ; had it not been fo, 
T had been oftener at church, more devout when there, 
and more fearful of ever negleCting it. 

But the thing that now furprifes me above all won- 
ders, is this, that I never had fo much as a general in- — 
tention of living up to the piety of the gofpel. This 
never fo much as entered into my head or my heart. I 
never once in my life confidered whether I was living 
as the laws of religion dire&t, or whether my way of life 
“ate fuch as would procure me the mercy of God at this 

our. 

And can ‘it be thought that I have kept the gofpel 
terms of falvation, without ever {6 much as mtending 
in any ferious and deliberate manner eithér to know 
them or keep them ? Can it be thought that I have 
pleafed God with fuch a life as he requires, though I 


. have lived without evér confidering what he requires, or 


how much I have performed ? how eafy a thing would 
falvation be, if it could fall imto my carelefs hands, whe 
have never had fo much ferious thoughts about it, as 
about any one common bargain that I have made? 

In the bufinefs: of life Ihave ufed prudence and re- 


‘Aegtion, I have done every thing by rules and methods. 


E2 


52 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


T have been glad to converfe with men of experience 
and judgment, to find out the reafons why fome fail 
and others fucceed in any bufinefs. I have taken no 
ftep in trade but with great care and caution, confider- 
ing every advantage or danger that attended it. I have 
always had my eye upon the main end of bufinefs, and 
have iftudied all the ways and. means of being a gainer 
by all that I undertook. ‘eS 7 

But what is the reafon that I have brought none of 
thefe tempers to religion ? What is the reafon that I, 
who have fo often talked of the neceffity of rules and 
methods, and diligence in worldly bufinefs, have all this 
while never once thought of any rules, or methods, or 
managements, to carry me on in a life of piety ? 

Do you think any thing can aftonifh and confound a 
dying man like this? What pain do you think a man - 
mutt feel, when his confcience lays all this folly to his 
charge, when it fhall fhew him how regular, exa&t, and 
wife he has been in {mall matters, that are pafled away 
like a dream, and how iftupid and fenfelefs he has lived, 
without any refleGtion, without any rules, in things of 
fuch eternal moment, as no heart can fufficiently cén- 
ceive them ! 

Had I only my frailties and imperfeétions to lament 
at this time, I fhould lie here humbly trufting in the _ 
mercies of God. But alas! how can I call a general ~ 
difregard, and a thorough negle& of all religious im- _ 
provement, a frailty and imperfe&tion ; when it was as 
much in my power to have been exaét, and careful, and 
diligent in a courfe of piety, as in the bufinefs of my 
trade. 

I could have called in as many helps, have pra@tifed 
as many rules, and been taught as many certain methods 
of holy living, as of thriving in my fhop, had I but fo 
intended and defired it. vay 

Oh! my friends ! a carelefs life, unconcerned and 
unattentive to the duties ‘of religion, is fo without all ex- - 
cufe fo unworthy of the mercy of God, fuch a fhameto 
the fenfe and reafon of our minds, that I can hardly con- 
ceive a greater punifhment, than for a man to be - 
into the ftate that I am in, to refle&t upon it.” 

Penitens was here going on, but had his mouth 1 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 58 


ped by a convulfion, which never fuffered him to {peak 
any more. He lay convulfed about twelve hours, and 
then gave up the ghott. 

Now if every reader would imagine this Penitens to 
have been fome particular acquaintance or relation of 
his, and fancy that he faw and heard all that is here de- 
feribed, that he ftood by his bed-fide when his poor 
friend lay in fuch diftrefs and agony, lamenting the folly 
of his paft life, it would in all probability teach him fuch 


‘wifdom as never entered into his heart before. If to this, 


he fhould confider, how often he himfelf might have been 
furprifed in the fame ftate of negligence, and made 
an example to the reft of the world, this double reflec- 
tion, both upon the diftrefs of his friend, and the good- 
nefs of that God, who had preferved him from it, would 
in all likelihood foften his heart into holy tempers, and 
make him turn the remainder of his life into a regular 
courfe of piety. 

This therefore being fo ufeful a meditation, I fhall 
here leave the reader, as, I hope, ferioufly engaged in it. 


: ee 


CHAP IV. « 


We can pleafe God in no flate or employment of Life, but by 
intending and devoting # all to his Honour and Glory. 


HAV!NG in the firft Chapter: ftated the gen-. 
eral nature of devotion, and fhewn, that it implies not 
any form of prayer, but a certain form of life that is of- 
fered to God not at any particular times or places, but 
every where and in every thing ; I fhall now defcend to 
fome particulars, and fhew how we are to devote our 
labour and employment, our time and fortunes unto 
God. : 

As a good Chriftian fhould confider every place as 


holy, becaufe God is there : fo he fhould look upon every 


part of his life as a matter of holinefs, becaufe it is to 


_ be offered unto God. , 
The profeffion of a clergyman is a holy. profeffion, 


$4 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


becaufe it is a miniftration in holy things, an attendance 
at the altar. But worldly bufinefs is to be made 
unto the Lord, by being done asa fervice to med and in 
conformity to his divine will. 

For as all men and all things in the world, antedly tal? 
long unto God, as any places, things, or perfons that are 
devoted to divine fervice ; fo all things are to be ufed, 
and all perfons are to a& in their feveral lates and em- 
ployments for the glory of God. ; 

Men of worldly bufinefs therefore muft not look upon 
themfelves as at liberty to live to themfelves, to facrifice 
to their own humours and tempers, becaufe their employ- 
ment is of a worldly nature. But they muft confider, 
that as the world and all worldly profeffions, as truly be- 
long to God, as perfons and things that are devoted to 
the altar ; fo it is as much the duty of men in worldly 
bufinefs to live wholly unto God, as it is the duty of 
thofe who are devoted to divine fervice. 

As the whole world is God’s, fo the whole world is to 
a& for God. As all men have the fame relation to 
God, as all men have all their powers and faculties from 
God ; fo all men are obliged to a&t for God with all 
their powers and faculties. : 

As all things are God’s, fo all things are to be ufed 
and regard@d as the things of God. For men to abufe 
things on earth, and live to themfelves, is the fame rebel- 
lion againft God, as for angels to abufe things in heaven ; 
becaufe God is juft the fame Lord of all on earth, as he 
is the Lord of all in heaven. 

Things may, and muft differ in their ufe, but yet they 
are all to be ufed according to the will of God. 

Men may, and muft differ in their employment, but 
yet they muft all aét for the fame ends, as dutiful fer- 
vants of God, in the right and pious performance of their 
feveral callings. 

Clergymen mutt live wholiy unto God in one partic- 
ular way, that is, in the exercife of holy offices, inthe 
miniftration of prayers and facraments, eras pues 
diftribution of {piritual goods. oh are. 

But men of other employments are im their partict 
ways as much obliged to aG as the fervants of od, an 
lai everal callings. © 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIEE, 55 


This is the only difference between clergymen, and 
people of other callings. 

When it can be fhewn that men might be vain, covet- 
ous, fenfual, worldly-minded, or proud in the exercife 
of their worldly bufinefs, then it will be allowable for 
clergymen to indulge the fame tempers in their facred 
profeffion. For though thefe tempers are moft odious 
and moft criminal in clergymen, who, befides their bap- 
tifmal vow, have a fecond time devoted themfelves to 
God, to be his fervants, not in the common offices of 
human life, but in the fpiritual fervice of the moft holy 
facred things : and who are therefore to keep themfelves 
as feparate and different from the common life of other 
men, as a church or an altar is to be kept feparate from 
houfes and tables of common ufe: Yet as all Chriftians 
are by their baptifm devoted to God, and made profef- 
fors of holinefs, fo are they all in their feveral callings 
to live as holy and heavenly perfons ; doing every thing 
in their common life only in fuch a manner, as it may be 
received by God, as a fervice done to him. For things 
fpiritual and temporal, facred and common, mutt, like 
men and angels, like heaven and earth, all confpire in the 

glory of God. 

As there is but one God and Father of us all, whofe 

_ glory gives light and life to every thing that lives ; whofe 
prefence fills all places, whofe power fupports all beings, 
whofe providence ruleth all events ; fo every thing that 

| lives, whether in heaven or earth, whether they be 
thrones or principalities, men or angels, they. mutt all 
with one fpirit, live wholly to the praife and glory of 
this one God and Father of them all. Angels as angels in 

_ their heavenly miniftratious, but men as men, women as 

women, bifhops as bifhops, priefts as priefts, and deacons 
as deacons ; fome with things fpiritual, and fome with 

_ things temporal, offering to God the daily facrifice of a - 

_ reafonable life, wife actions, purity of heart, and heav- 

, /<. affe€tions. 

This is the-common bufinefs of all perfons in this 

world. It is not left to any women in the world to trifle. 

| away their time in the follies and impertinences of a 

| fathionable life, norito any men to refign themfelves up 


| to worldly cares and concerns ; if is not left to the rich 


* 


56 A SERIOUS CALL.TO A 


to gratify their paffions in the indulgences and pride of 
life ; nor to the poor to vex and torment their hearts 
with the poverty of their ftate ; but men and women, 
rich and poor, muft with bifhops and priefts, walk be- 
fore God in the fame wife and holy fpirit, in the fame 
denial of all vain tempers, and in the fame difcipline 
‘and care of their fouls ; not only becaufe they have all 
the fame rational nature, and are fervants of the fame 
God, but becaufe they all want the fame holinefs to make 
them fit for the fame happinefs, fo which they ate called. 
It is therefore abfolutely necefflary for all. Chriftians, 
whether men or women, to confider themfelves as per- 
fons that are devoted to holinefs ; and fo order their — 
common ways of life by fuch rules of reafon and piety, 
as may turn it into continual fervice unto Almighty 
God. ‘ 

Now to make our labour or employment an accepta- 
ble fervice unto God, we muft carry it on with the fame 
fpirit and temper, that is required in giving of alms, or 

; any work of piety. For, if whether we 
1 Cor. x. 31. eat or drink, or whatfoever we do, we 
do all to the glory of God; Vf we are to 
ufe this world as if we ufed it not ; if we ate to prefent 
our bodies a living facrifice, holy, acceptable 
Rom. xii. 7. to Gods if we are to live by faith, and not 
by fight, and to have our converfation in 
heaven ; then it is neceflary, that the common way of 
our life in every ftate, be made to glorify God by fuch — 
tempers as make our prayers and adorations acceptable 
to him. For, if we are worldly or earthly-minded in 
our employments, if they are carried on with vain de- 
fires, and covetous tempers, only to fatisfy ourfelves, 
we can no more be faid to live to the glory of God, than 
gluttons and drunkards can be faid to eat and drink to 
the glory of God. tie 

As the glory of God is one and the fame thing, fo 
whatever we do fuitable to it, muft be done with one 
and the fame fpirit. That fame ftate and temper of — 
inind which makes our alms and devotions aeceptable, — 
mutt alfo make our labour, or employment, a proper of- 
fering unto God. Ifa man labours 9 be rich, and pur- 
fues his bufinefs,: that he may raife himfelf to.a fate 6! 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 57 


figure and glory in the world, he is no longer ferving 
God in his employment ; he ‘is ating under other maf- 
ters, and has no more title to a reward from God, than 
he that gives alms, that he may be feen, cr prays that he 
may be heard of men. For vain and earthly defires are 
no more allowable in our employments, than in our 
alms and devotions. For thefe tempers of worldly 
pride and yain glory, are not only evil, when they mix 
with our good works, but they have the fame evil na- 
ture, and make us odious to God, when they enter into 
the common bufinefs of ouremployment. If it were al- 
lowable to indulge covetous or vain paflions in our 
worldly employments, it would then be allowable to be 
¥ain-glorious in our devotions. But as our alms and de- 
votions are not an acceptable fervice, but when they 
proceed from a heart truly devoted to God, fo our com- 
mon employment cannot be reckoned a fervice to him, 
but when it is performed with the fame temper and piety 
of heart. 

Moft of the employments of life are in their own na- 
ture lawful ; and all thofe that are fo, may be.made a 
fiibftantial part of our duty to God, if we engage in 
them only fo far, and for fuch ends, as are f{uitable to 
beings, that.are to live above the world, all the time 


’ that they live in the world. This is the only meafure 


of our application to any worldly bufinefs, let it be what 
it will, where it will, it muft have no more of our hands, 
our hearts, or our time, than is confiftent with an hearty, 
daily, careful preparation of ourfelves for another life. 
For as all chriftians, as fuch, have renounced this world, 
to prepare themfelves by daily devotion and univerfal 
holinefs, for an eternal ftate of quite another nature, 
they muft look upon wordly employments, as upon 
worldly wants and bodily infirmities ; things net to be 
defired, but only to be endured and fuffered, till death 
and the refurre€tion has carried us to an eternal ftate of 
real happinefs. 

__ Now he that does not look at the things of this life 
inthis degree of littlenefs, cannot be faid either to feél or 
believe the greateft truths of chriftianity. For if he 
thinks any thing great or important in human bufinefs, 

‘gan he be faid, to feel or believe thofe fcriptures which , 


SS A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


yeprefent this life, and the greateft things of life, as 
bubbles, vapeurs, dreams, and fhadows ? — 4 ' 

’ If he thinks figure, and thew, and worldly glory, to 
‘be any proper happinefs of a chriftian, how can he be 
faid to feel or believe this doGtrine.. Bleffed are ye when 
men fhall hate you, and when they fhall feparate you from 
their company, and fhall reproach you, and caft out your 
name as evil for the fon of man’s fake? For furely, if 
there was any real happinefs in figure, and fhew, and 
worldly glory ; if thefe things deferved our thoughts 
and care, it could not be matter of the higheft joy, when 
we are torn from them by perfecutions and fufferings ? 
Hf, therefore, a man will fo live, as to thew, that he feels 
and believes the moft fundamental do&trines of chriftian- 
ity, he muft live above the world ; this is the temper 
that muft enable him to do the bufinefs of life, and yet 
live wholly unto God, and to go through fome worldly 
employment with a heavenly mind. And it is as necef- 
fary, that peopie live in their employments with this 
temper, as it is neceflary, that their employment itfelf 
be lawful. a 

_ ‘The hufbandman that tilleth the ground is employed 

: : in an honeft bufinefs, that is neceffary in life, and very 

- capable of being made an acceptable fervice unto God. 
But if he labours and toils, not to ferve any reafonable 
ends of life, but in order to haveh is plough made of filver, 
and to have his horfes harneffed in gold, the honefty of 
his employment is loft as to him, and his labour becomes 
his folly. 

A tradefman may juftly think that it is agreeable to 
the will of God, for him to fell fuch things as are inno- 
cent and ufeful in life ; fuch as help both himfelf and 
others to a reafonable fupport, and enable them to affift 
thofe that want to be affifted. But if inftead of this, 
he trades only with regard to himfelf, without any other 
rule than that of his own temper, if it be his chief end 
in it to grow rich, that he may live in figure and ees 
encies, and be able to retire from bufinefs to idlenefs 
and luxury, his trade, as to him, lofes allits mnocency, 
and is fo far from being an acceptable fervice to God. a 

that it is only a more plaufible courfe of covetoufnefs, 

~ felflove, and ambition. For fuch a one turns : 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 59 


neceflities of employments into pride and covetoufnefs, 
jutt as the fot and epicure turn the neceflities of eating 
and drinking into gluttony and drunkennefs. Now he 
that is up early and late, that fweats and labours for thefe 
ends, that he may be fome time or other rich, and live 
in pleafure and indulgence, lives no more to the glory of 
God, than he that plays and games for the fame ends. 
Fer though there is a great difference between trading 
and gaming, yet moft of that difference is loft, when 
men once trade with the fame defires and tempers, and 
for the fame ends that others game. Charity and: fine 
dreffing are things very different ; but if men give alms 
for the fame reafons that others drefs fine, only to be 
feen and admired; charity is then but like the vanity 
of fine clothes. In like manner, if the fame motives 
make fome people painful and induftrious in their trades, 
which makes others conftant at gaming, fuch pains is 
but like the pains of gaming. 

Calidus has traded above thirty years in the greateft 
city of the kingdom; he has been fo many years con- 
ftantly increafing his trade and his fortune. Every hour 
of the day is with him an hour of bufinefs ; and though 
he eats and drinks very heartily, yet every meal feems 
to be in a hurry, and he would fay grace if he had time. 
Calidus ends every day at the tavern, but has not leifure 
to be there till near nine o’clock. He is always forced 
to drink a good hearty glafs, to drive thoughts of bufi- 
nefs out of his head, and make his {pirits drowfy enough 
_ for fleep. He does bufinefs all the time that he is rifing, 
and has fettled feveral matters before he can get to his 
compting-room. His prayers are a fhort ejaculation or 
two, which he never mifles in ftormy tempeftuous weather, 
_ becaufe he has always fomething or other at fea, 
Calidus will tell you with great pleafure, that he has 
been in this hurry for fo many years, and that it mult 
have killed him long ago, but that it has been a rule with 
him, to get out of the town every Saturday, and make 
the Sunday a day of. quiet and good refrefhment in the 
_ country. . 

_ _He is now forich, that he would leave off his bufinefs, 

and amufe his old age with building and furnifhing ~a 

_ fine houfe in the country, but that he is afraid he fhould 
eis 


Mag 
60 A SERIOUS CALL TO A a 2 


grow melancholy if he was to quit his bufinef®”"He 
will tell you with great gravity, that it is a dangerous 
thing for a man, that has been ufed to get money, ever 
to leave it off. Ifthoughts of religion happen at any time 
to fteal into his head, Calidus contents himfelf with 
thinking that he never was a friend to heretics and in- 
fidels, that he has always been civil to the minifter of © 
his parifh, and very often given fomething to the char- 
ity-{chools. ’ 
Now this way of life is at fuch a diftance from all the 
doGtrine and difcipline of Chriftianity, that no one can 
live in it through ignorance or frailty. Calidus can no 
more imagine, that he is born again of - 
St. John iii. the fpirit ; that he is in Chrift a new crea- 
1 Pet. ii. 11. tures that he lives here as a flranger and 
Coloff. ii. 1. pilgrim, fetting his affections upon things 
above, and laying up treafures in heaven. 
He can no more imagine this, than he can think that he 
has been all his life an apoftle, working miracles and 
preaching the gofpel. ; 
It mutt alfo be ownedthat the generality of trading peo- 
ple, efpecially in great towns, are too much like Calidus. 
You fee them all the week butied in bufinefs, unable to 
think of any thing elfe; and then fpending the Sunday 
in idlenefs and refrefhment, in wandering into the coun- — 
try, in fuch vifits and jovial meetings as make it often — 
the wort day of the week. y 
Now they do not live thus, becaufe they cannot fup- 
port themfelves with lefs care and application to bufinefs ; 
but they live thus becaufe they want to grow rich in their 
trades, and to maintain their families im fome fuch fig- 
ure and degree of finery, as a reafonable Chriftian life 
has no occafion for. Take away but this temper, and 
then people of all trades, will find themfelves at leifure | 
to live every day like Chriftians, to be careful of ev | 
duty of the Gofpel, tolive in a vifible courfe of religion, — 
and be every day ftrit obfervers both of private and — 
public prayer. i aa al us 
Now the only way to do this, is for people to confider — 
their trade, as fomething that are obliged to devote © 
to the glory of God, fomething that they are to do only 
in fuch a manner, as that they may make it a duty to 


; 


4 


i 


% 
é. 


‘ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 61 


hime? Nothing can be right in bufinefs, that is not un- 
der thefe rules. The apoftle commands 

fervants, to be obedient to their mafters in Ephef. vi. 5. 
Singlenefs of heart as unto Chrift.. Not with Col. iii. 22, 
eye-fervice as men-pleafers, but as the fer- 23. 

vants of Chrift, doing the will of God from 


_ the heart. With good will doing fervice as unto the Lord, 


and not unto men. ? 
This paflage fufficiently fhews, that all Chriftians are 
to live wholly unto God in every ftate and condition, 
doing the work of their common calling in fuch a man- 
ner, and for fuch ends, as to make it a part of their de- 
votion or fervice to God. For certainly if poor flaves 
are not to comply with their bufinefs as men-pleafers, if 
they are to look whoily unto God in all their ations, 
and ferve in finglenefs of heart, as unto the Lord, furely 
men of other employments and coeditions muft be as 
much obliged to go through their bufinefs with the fame 
‘ finglenefs of heart ;~not as pleafing the vanity of their 
own minds, not as gratifying their own felfith, worldly 
paffions, but as the fervants of God in all that they have 
to do. For furely no one will fay that a flave is to de- 
vote his ftate of life unto God, and make the will of God, 
the fole rule and end of his fervice, but that a tradefman 
need not act with the fame {pirit of devotion in his bufi- 
nefs. For this is as abfurd, as to make it neceffary for 
one man to be more juft or faithful than another. 
It is therefore abfolutely certain, that no Chriftian is 
to enter any further into bufinefs, nor for any other ends, 
than fuch as he can in finglenefs of heart offer unto God, 
as a reafonable fervice. For the fon of God has re- 
deemed us for this only end, that we fhould by a life of 
reafon and piety live to the glory of God ; this is the 


_~ only rule and meafure for every order and ftate of life. 


Without this rule, the moft lawful employment becomes 
a finful ftate of life. F 

‘Take away this from the life of a clergyman, and his 
holy profeffion ferves only to expofe him toa greater 
damnation. Take away this from tradefmen, and fhops 


_, are but fo many houfes of greedinefs and filthy lucre. 


_ Take away this from gentlemen, and the courfe of their 
life becomes a courfe of fenfuality, pride and wanton- 


62 A SERIGUS CALL TO A 


nefs. ‘Take away this rule from our tables, and ail falls 
into gluttony and drunkennefs.. Take away this meafure _ 
from our drefs and habits, and all is turned into fuch. 
paint, and glitter, and ridiculous ornaments, as are a real 
fhame to the wearer. Take away this from theufe of our 
fortunes, and you will find people {paring in nothing but 
charity. Take away this from our diverfions, and you 
will find no fports too filly, nor any entertainments too — 
vain and corrupt to be the pleafure of chriftians. 
If therefore we defire to live unto God, it is neceflary 
to bring our whole life under this law, to make his glory 
the fole rule and meafure of our acting in every employ- 
ment of life. For there is no other true devotion, but 
this of living devoted to God in the common bufinefs of 
our lives. 
So that men muft not content themfelves with the law- 
fulnefs of their employments, but muft confider whether 
they ufe them as they are to ufe every 
Coloff. ii, 1. thing, as ftrangers and pilgrims, that are 
1 Pet. i. 15, baptized into the refurreétion of Jefus 


16. Chrift, that are to follow him ina wife 
Eph. v. 26, and heavenly courfe of life, in the morti- 
27. fication of all worldly defires, and in puri- 


fying and preparing their fouls for the 
bleffed enjoyment of God. 

For to be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambitious in 
the common courfe of our bufinefs, is as contrary to 
thefe holy tempers of Chriftianity, as cheating and dif- 
honefty. 

If a glutton was to fay in excufe of his gluttony, that 
he only eats fuch things as it is lawful to eat, he would ~ 
make as good an excufe for himfelf as the greedy, covet- 
ous, ambitious tradefman, that fhould fay, he only deals 
in lawful bufinefs. For as a Chriftian is not only re- 
quired to be honeft, but to be of a Chriftian {pirit, and 
make his life an exercife of humility, repentance and — 
heavenly affe€tion, fo all tempers that are contrary to” 
thefe, are as contrary to Chriftianity, as cheating) is con= 
trary to honefty. the 

So that the matter plainly comes to thin; ae inregue 
_ lar tempers in trade and bufinefs, are but like. irregular 
tempers in eating and drinking. ee wine fe 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 63 


- Proud views and vain defires in our worldly employ- 
‘ments, are as truly vices and corruptions, as hypocrify in 
Prayer, or vanity in alms. And there can be no reafon 
‘given why vanity in our alms fhould make us odious to 
| God, but what will prove any other kind of pride to be 
| equally odious. He that labours and toils in a calling, 
) that he makes a figure in the world, and draw the eyes of 
people upon the fplendour of his condition, is as far from 

_ the pious humility of a chriftian, as he that gives alms 
that he may be feen of men. For the reafon why pride, 
and vanity in our prayers and alms renders them an un- 
| aeceptable fervice to God, is not becaufe there is any 
| thing particular in prayers and alms, that cannot allow of 
| pride, but becaufe pride is in no refpedt, nor in any thing 
made for man ; it deftroys the piety of our prayers and 
alms, becaufe it deftroys the piety of every thing that it 
touches, and renders every aétion that it governs, inca- 
pable of being offered unto God. 
So that if we could fo divide ourfelves, as to be hum- 
___ ble in fome refpeéts, and proud in others, fuch humility 
| would be of no fervice to us, becaufe God requires us 
as truly to be humble in all our aétions and defigns, as 
to be true and honett in all our ations and defigns. 

» And as a man is not honeft and true, becaufe he is not 
| toa great many people, or upon feveral occafions, but 
| becaufe truth and honefty is the meafure of all his deal- 
ings with every body ; fo the cafe is the fame in humility, 
| or any other temper, it muft be the general ruling habit - 

_ of our minds and extend itfelf to all our ations and de- 


| ; figns, before it can be imputed to us. 
a We indeed fometimes talk, as if a man might be hum- 
|| ble in fome things and proud in others, humble in his 
_drefs, but proud of his learning, humble in his perfon, 
_ but proud in his views and defigns. But though this may 
__ pais in common difcourfe, where few things are faid ac- 


_ cording to ftri& truth, it cannot be allowed when we ex- 
___ amine into the nature of our ations. 
} _ It is very poffible for a man that lives by cheating, to 
_ be very punétual in paying for what he buys ; but then 
_ every one is affured, that he does not do fo, out of any 
principle of true honefty. x , 
i In like manner it is very poffible for a man that is 
(a F2 


64 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


proud of his eftate, ambitious in his views, or vain of his 
learning, to difregard his drefs, and perfon, in fuch a 
manner.as a truly humble man would do ; but to fup- 
pofe ‘that he does fo out of a true principle of religious 
humility, is full as abfurd, as to fuppofe that a cheat 
pays for what he buys, out of a principle of religious 
honetty. i 

As therefore all kinds of difhonefty deftroy our pre= 
tences to an honeft principle of mind, fo all kinds of 
pride deftroy our pretences to an humble {pirit. 

No one wonders, that thofe prayers and alms, which 
proceed from pride and oftentation are odious to God 5 
but yet it is as eafy to fhew, that pride is as pardonable 
there, as any where elfe. 

If we could f{uppofe that God rejeéts pride in our 
prayers and alms, but bears with pride in our drefs, our 
perfons, or eftates, it would be the fame thing as to fup- 
pofe that God condemns falfehood in fome aétions, but 
allows it in others. or pride in one thing differs from 
pride in another thing, as the robbing of one man differs 
from the robbing of another. 

Again, if pride and oftentation, is fo odious that it 
deftroys the merit and worth of the moft reafonable ae- 
tions, furely it muft be equally odious in thofe ations, 
which are only founded in the weaknefs and infirmity of 
our nature. As thus, alms are commanded by God, as 
excellent in themfelves, as true inftances of divine tem- 
per, but clothes are only allowed to cover our fhame ; 
furely therefore it muft at Jeaft be as odious a degree of 
pride, to be vain in our clothes, as to be vain in our 
alms. ; 

Again, we are commanded to pray without ceafing, as 
a means of rendering our fouls more exalted and divine, — 
but we are forbidden to lay up treafures upon earth; and 
can we think that it is not as bad to be vain of thofe — 
treafures which we are forbidden to lay up, as to be — 
vain of thofe prayers which we are commanded to — 
make. ‘ Dak De | 
Women are required to have their heads covered, and if 
to adorn themfelves with fhamefacednefs; if therefore — 
1 Cor. xi.13 they are vain in thofe things which are 
4 * exprefsly forbidden, if they patch and 


72% 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 65: 


paint that part, which can only be a- 

‘dorned by fhamefacednefs, furely they 1 Tim, ii. 9. 
have as much to repent of for fuch a 

pride, as they have, whofe pride is the motive to shiete 
prayers and charity. This muft be granted, unlefs we . 
will fay, that it is more pardonable to glory in our fhame, 
than to glory in our virtue, 

All thefe inftances are only to fhew us the great ne~ 
ceflity of fuch a regular and uniform piety, as extends 
itfelf to all the a&tions of our common life. 

That we muft eat and drink, and drefs and difcourfe, 
according to the fobriety of the chriftian fpirit, engage 
in no employments but fuch as we can truly devote unto 
God, nor purfue them any farther than fo far as con- 
duces to the reafonable ends of a holy devout life. 

That we mutt be honeft, not only on particular occa- 
fions, and in fuch inftances as are applauded in the world, 
eafy to be performed and free from danger or lofs, but 
from fuch a living principle of juftice, as makes us love 
truth and integrity in all its inftances, follow it through 
all dangers, and againft all oppofition ; as knowing that 
the more we pay for any truth, the better is our bar- 
| gain, and that then our integrity becomes a pearl, when 
| we have parted with all to keep it. 

That we muft be humble, not only in fuch inftances 
as are expected in the world, or fuitable to our tempers, 
or confined to particular occafions, but in fuch an humil- 
__ ity of f{pirit, as renders us meek and lowly in the whole 
__ courfe of our lives, as fhews itfelf in our drefs, our per-" 
fon, our converfation, our enjoyment of the world, the 
tranquillity of our midds, patience under injuries, fub- 
miffion to fuperiors, and condefcenfions to thofe that are 
below us, and in all the outward aétions of our lives. 

_ That we muft devote, not only times and places to 
_ prayer, but be every where in the fpirit of devotion, 
with hearts always fet towards heaven, looking up to | 

God in all our ations, and doing every thing as his 
_ fervants, living in the world as in a holy temple of God, ' 
and always worfhipping him, though not with our lips, 
yet with the thankfulnefs of our hearts, the holinefs of 
Ls jour aétions, and the pious and charitable ufe of all his 
gifts. That we muft not only fend up petitions and 


66 .A SERIOUS CALL TO A : 


thoughts now and then to heaven, but muft go through 
all our worldly bufinefs with an heavenly fpirit, as mem- 
bers of Chrift’s myftical body, that with new hearts, and — 
new minds, are to turn an earthly life into a prepara- 
tion for a life of greatnefs and glory in the kingdom of 
heaven. ’ wn 

Now the only way to arrive at this piety of {pirit, 
is to bring all your aétions to the fame rule as your de- 
votions and alms. You very well know what it is that 
makes the piety of your alms or devotions ; now the 
fame rules, the fame regard to God, muft render every 
thing elfe that you do, a fit and acceptable fervice unto 
God. 4 
Enough, I hope, has been faid to fhew you the necef- 
fity of thus introducing religion into all the aétions of 
your common life, and of living and aéting with the 
fame regard to God in all that you do, as in your pray- 
ers and alms. j 

Eating is one of the loweft ations of our lives, it is 
common to us with mere animals, yet we fee that the 
piety of all ages of the world, has turned this ordinary _ 
action of an animal life, into a piety to God, by making 
every meal to begin and end with devotion. 

We fee yet fome remains of this cuftom in moft chrift- 
ian families ; fome fuch little formality as fhews you, that 
people ufed to call upon God at the beginning and end 
of their meals. But, indeed, it is now generally fo per= 
formed, as to look more like a mockery on devotion, than 
any folemn application of the mind unto God. In one’ 
houfe you may perhaps fee the head of the family juft. 
pulling off his hat, in another half getting up from his 


ah 


feat ; another fhall, it may be, proceed fo far, as to make 


as if he faid fomething ; but however, thefe little at- 
tempts are the remains of fome devotion that was formerly ~ 
ufed at fuch times, and are proofs that religion has be- 
longed to this part of common life. ‘4: 
But to fuch a pafs are we now come, that though the 
cuftom is yet preferved, yet we can hardly bear with 
him that feems to perform it with any degree of feriouf-_ 
nefs, and look upon it ‘as a fign of ee oe Be’) 
man has not done’it as foon ashe begins. = 


I would not be thought. to plead for the neceflity of 4 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 67 


long prayers at thefe times ; but thus much I think may 
be fa , that if prayer is proper at thefe times, we ought 
to oblige ourfelves to ufe fuch a form of words as fhould 
fhew that we folemnly appeal to God for fuch graces and 
bleffings as are then proper to the occafion. Otherwife 
the mock ceremony, inftead of bleffing our victuals, does 
but accuftom us to trifle with devotion, and give us a 
habit of being unaffe&ted with our prayers. 

If every head of a family was, at the return of every 
meal, to oblige himfelf to make a folemn adoration of 
God, in fuchia decent manner as becomes a devout mind, 
it would be very likely to teach him, that fwearing, fen- 
fuality, gluttony, and loofe difcourfe, were very improp- 
er at thofe meals, which were to begin and end with 
devotion. 

And if in thefe days of general corruption, this part of 
devotion is fallen into a mock ceremony, it muft be im- 
puted to this caufe, that fenfuality and intemperance 
have got too great a power over us, to fuffer us to add 
any devotion to our meals. But thus much mutt be 
faid, that when we are as pious as Jews and Heathens of 
all ages have been, we fhall think it proper to pray at 
the beginning and end of our meals. 

I have appealed to this pious cuftom of all ages of 
the world, as a proof of the reafonablenefs of the doce 
trine of this and the foregoing chapters ; that is, as a 
proof that religion is to be the rule and meafure of all 
the actions of ordinary life. For furely, if we are not 
to eat, but under fuch rules of devotion, it muft plainly 
appear, that whatever elfe we do, mutt in dts proper 
way, be done with the fame regard to the glory of God, 
and agreeably to the principles of a devout and pious 
mind. 


68 A SERIOUS CALL TO A — 


CHAP. Vou ee 


Perfons that are free from the neceffity of labour and em- 
ployments are to confider themfelves as devoted to God in 


a higher degree. 4 


GREAT part of the world are free from eh 
neceflities of labour and employments, and have — 
time and fortunes in their own difpofal. 

But as no one is to live in his employment a 
to his own humour, or for fuch ends as pleafe his own 
fancy, but is to do all his bufinefs in fuch a manner, as to 
make it a fervice unto God ; fo thofe who have no par- 
ticular employment, are fo far from being left at greater 
liberty to live to themfelves, to purfue their own hu- 
mours, and {pend their time and fortunes as they pleafe, — 
that they are under greater obligations of living wholly : 
unto God in all their aGtions. } 


The freedom of their ftate lays them under-a 
neceflity of always choofing and doing the beft things. 

_ They are thofe, of whom much will be required, be- 
caufe much is given unto them. 

A flave can only live unto God in one particular way; — 
that is, by religious patience and fubmiffion i in his ftate © 
of flavery. 

But all ways of holy living, all inftances, and all kinds 
of virtue# Be open to thofe, who are matters of them- 
felves, their time and their fortune. 

It isas much the duty, therefore, of fuch eit to 
make a wife ufe of their liberty, to devote themfelves to 
all kinds of virtue, to afpire after every thing that is holy _ 
and pious, to endeavour to be eminent in all good works, 
and to pleafe God in the higheft and moft 
ner ; it is as much their duty to be thus wife in the com 
dua of themfelves, and thus extenfive in their endeavours _ 
after holinefs, as it is the duty of a flave to be reigned ; 
unto God in his ftate of flavery. . 4 

You are no labourer, or tradefman, } 
merchant nor foldier ; confider. yout 


tee ee eee 


AD Ss heh 


ROLLED 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 69 


placed in a ftate in fome degree like that of good an- 
els, who are fent into the world as miniftering fpir- 

its, for the general good of mankind, to affift, prote&, 

and minifter for them who fhall be heirs of falvation. 

For the more you are free from the common necef- 
fities of men, the more you are to imitate the higher 
perfeétions of angels. 

Had you, Serena, been obliged by the neceffities of 
life, to wafh clothes for your maintenance, or to wait 
upon fome miftrefs, that demanded all your labour, it 
would then be your duty to ferve and glorify God, by 
fuch humility, obedience, and faithfulnefs, as might 
adorn that ftate of life. 

‘It would then be recommended to your care, to im- 
prove that one talent to its greateft height. That when 
the time came, that mankind were to be rewarded for 
their labours by the great judge of quick and dead, 
you might be received with a well done good and faith- 
ful fervant, enter thou into the joy of the Lord. St. Matth. 
XXV. 

But as God has given you five talents, as he has placed 

you above the neceffities of life, as he has left you in the 
hands of yourfelf in the happy liberty of choofing the 
mott exalted ways of virtue, as he has enriched you with 
many gifts of fortune, and left you nothing to do, but to 
make the beft ufe of variety of bleffings, to make the 
moft of a fhort life, to ftudy your own perfeétion, the 
honour of God, and the good of your neighbour ; fo 
it is now your duty to imitate the greateft fervants of 
God, to inquire how the moft eminent faints have lived, 
to ftudy all the arts and methods of perkeliee, and to 
fet no bounds to your love and gratitude to the bounti- 
ful Author of fo many bleffings. 
_ It is now your duty to turn your five talents into five 
more, and to confider how your time, and leifure, and 
health, and fortune, may be made fo many happy means 
of purifying your own foul, improving your fellow-crea- 
tures in the ways of virtue, and of carrying you at laft 
to the greateft heights of eternal glory. - 

As you have no miftrefs to ferve, fo let your own foul 
be the obje& of your daily care and attendance. Be 


oe 


70 A SERIOUS CALL TO A — 


forry for its impunities, its fports and imperfeCtions, — 
and ftudy all the holy arts of reftoring it to its natural 
and primitive purity. 

Delight inits fervice, and beg of God to adorn it with 
every grace and perfeétion. 

Nourifh it with good works, give it peace in folitude, 
get it flrength in prayer, make it wife with reading, 
enlighten it by meditation, make it tender with love, 
fweeten it with humility, humble it with patience, en-— 
liven it with Pfalms and Hymns, and comfort it with 
frequent refleGtions upon future glory. Keep it in the 
prefence of God, and teach it to imitate thofe guardian 
angels, which, though they attend no human affairs, 
and the loweft of mankind, yet always bebold the face of 
our Father which is in heaven. St. Matt. xviii. 10. 

This, Serena, is your profeffion. For as fure as God 
is one God, fo fure it is, that he has but one command 
to all mankind, whether they be bond or free, rich or . 
poor ; and that is, to a€t up to the excellency of that 
nature which he has given them, to live by reafon, to 
walk in the light of religion, to ufe every thing as wif- 
dom direéts, to glorify God in all his gifts, and dedicate 
every condition of life to his fervice. 

This is the one common command of God to. all 
mankind. If you have an employment, you are to be 
thus reafonable, and pious and holy in the exercife of. 
it ; if you have time, and a fortune in your own pow- 
er, you are obliged to be thus reafonable, and holy, 
and pious, in the ufe of all your time, and all your for- 
tune. «© 

The right religious ufe of every thing, and every tal- 
ent, is the indifpenfable duty of every being that is ca- 
pable of knowing right and wrong. 

For the reafon why we are to do any thing as wute 
God, and with regard to our duty, and relation to 
him, is the fame reafon, why we are to do every thing 
as unto God, and with regard to our duty, and relation | 
to him. 

That, which is a reafon for our being wife dha holy 
in the difcharge of all our bufinels, is the fame reafon 
for our being wife and holy in the ufe of all o our Jeary 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 71 


As $ we have always the fame natures, and are every 
w! the fervants.of the fame God, as every place is 
: y full of his prefence, and every thing is equally 
his gift, fo we muit always a@ according to the reafon 
of our nature ; we muft do every thing as the fervants 
of God ; we mutt live in every place, as in his prefence ; 
we muft ufe every thing, as that ought to be ufed, which 
belongs to God. 

Either this piety and wifdom, and devotion is to go 
through every way of life, and to extend to the ufe 
of every thing, or it is to go through no part of life. 

If we might forget ourfelves, or forget God, if we 
might difregard our reafon, and live by humour and 

_. faney in any thing, or at any time, or in any place, it 
> would be as lawful to do the fame in every thing, at 
every time, and every place. 

If therefore fome people fancy, that they muft be 


" tic at home ; that they muft live by fome rule on the 
_ Sunday, but may fpend other days by chance ; that they 
_ miuft have fome times of prayer, but may waite the reft 

of their time as they pleafe ; that they muft give fome 

_ money in charity, but may fquander away the reft as 
they have a mind ; fuch people have not enough confid- 

_ ered the nature of religion, or the true reafons of pi- 

i ety. For he that upon principles of reafon can tell, 

why it is good to be wife and heavenly minded at church, 
can tell that it’s always defirable, to have the fame tem- 


fhould fpend any time well, knows that it is never allow- 
ble to throw any time away. He that rightly under- 
nds the reafonablenefs and excellency of charity, 
ill Know, that it can never be excufable to wafte any 
our money in pride and folly, or in any needlefs ex- 
enfes. 
t. For every argument that fhews the wifdom and excel- 
| Tency of charity, proves the wifdom of {pending all our 
rtune well- Every argument that proves the wifdom 
‘and reafonablenefs of having times of prayer, fhews the 
‘wifdom and reafonablenefs of lofing none of our time. 
_ If any one could fhew, that we need not always a@ as 
| im the divine prefence, that we need not confider and ufe 
: G 


grave and folemn at church, but may be filly and fran- 


pers in all other places. He that truly knows, why he | 


. 


72 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


every thing, as the gift of God, that we need not always — 
~ live by reafon, and make religion the rule of all our ace 
tions, the fame arguments would fhew, that we need — 
never aét as in the prefence of God, nor make religion and — 
reafon the meafure of any of our aétions. » If therefore — 
we are to live unto God at any time, or inany place, — 
‘we are to live unto him at all times, and all places. If — 
we are to ufe any thing as the gift of God, we are to 
ufe every thing as his gift. If we are to do any thing 
by ftriG rules of reafon and piety, we ought to ans pf 
thing in the fame manner. Becaufe reafon, and wil- 
dom, and piety are as much the beft things at all times, — 
and in all places, as they are the beft things at any time, 
# 


or in any place. 
If it is our glory and happinefs to have a rational na- — 
ture, that is endued with wifdom and reafon, that is ca- — 
pable of imitating the divine nature ; then it muift be our” 
glory and happinefs, to improve our reafon and wifdom, — 
to ad up to the excellency of ourrational nature, and to — 
imitate God in all our a@tions, to the utmoft of our pow- 
er. They therefore, who confine religion to times and 
places, and fome little rules of retirement, who think 
that it is being too ftri@ and rigid to introduce religion 
into common life, and make it give laws to all their ac- 
tions and ways of living, they who think thus, not only 
miftake, but they miftake the whole nature of religion. 
For furely they miftake the whole nature of religion, — 
who can think, any part of their life is made more ealy, — 
for being free from it. They may well be faid to mif- — 
take the whole nature of wifdom, who don’t think it de- — 
firable to be always wife. He has not learnt the nature — 
of piety, who thinks it too much to be pious in all his 
aGtions. He does not fufficiently underftand what rea- 
fon is, who does not earneftly defire to live in every thing 
according to it. a3 yest 
If we had a religion that confifted in abfurd fuper- 
ftitions, that had no regard to the perfe@tion of our na- 
ture, people might well be glad to have fome part 
their life excufed from it. But as the religion of the 
gofpel is only the refinement and exaltation of o 
faculties, as it only requires a life of the higheft 
as it only requires us to ufe this worldas ix 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 7S 


ought to be ufed, to live in fuch tempers as are the glory 

of intelligent beings, to walk in fuch wifdom as exalts 

our nature, and to practife fuch piety, as will raife us to 

God ; who can think it grievous, to live always in the 

fpirit of fuch a religion, to have every part of his life full 

of it, but he that would think it much more grievous, to 
be as the angels of God in heaven ? 

; Farther, as God is one and the fame Being, always 
ating like himfelf and fuitably to his own nature, fo it 
is the duty of every being that he has created, to live 
according to the nature that he has given it, and always 
to aé& like itfelf. 

It is therefore an immutable law of God, that all-ra- 
tional beings fhould a& reafonably in all their aétions ; 
not at this time, or in that place, or upon this occafion, 
or in the ufe of fome particular thing, but at all times, 
in all places, at all occafions, and in the ufe of all things. 
This is a law that is as unchangeable as God, and can 
no more ceafe to be, than God can, ceafe to be a God of 
wifdom and order. 

When therefore any being that is endued with reafon 
does an unreafonable thing at any time, or in any place, 
or in the ufe of any thing, it fins againft the great law 
of its nature, abufes itfelf, and fins againft God the au- 
thor of that nature. 

They therefore, who plead for indulgences and vani- 
ties, for any foolifh fafhions, cuftoms and humours of 

the world, for the mifule of our time or money, plead for 

_ arebellion againft our nature, for a rebellion againft 

’ God, who has given us reafon for no other end, than to 

make it the rule and meafure of all our ways of life. 

- When therefore you are guilty of any folly or extrav- 
“agance, or indulge any vain temper, don’t confider it as 
a {mail matter, becaufe it may feem fo, if compared to 

fome other fins ; but confider it, as it is ating contrary 
_ to your nature, and then you will fee that there is noth- 
_ ing {mall that is unreafonable. Becaufe all unreafonable - 
‘Ways are contrary to the nature of all rational beings, 
whether men or angels. Neither of which can be any 
longer agreeable to God, than fo far as they act ° 
ing to the reafon and excellence of their nature. > 

"The infirmities of human life make fuch food and 

a “a 


Be ‘A SERIOUS CALL TOA . 


raiment neceflary for us, as angels do not want : S but 
then it is no more allowable for us to turn thefe necefii- 
ties into follies, and indulge ourfelves in the luxury of 
food, or the vanities of drefs, than it is allowable for 
angels to aét below the dignity of their proper ftate. 
For a reafonable life, and a wife ufe of our proper con- 
dition, is as much the duty of all men, as it is the duty 
of all angels and intelligent beings, Thefe are not fpec- 
ulative flights, or imaginary notions, but are plain and 
undeniable laws, that are founded in the nature of rational 
beings, who as fuch are obliged to live by reafon, and 
glorify God by a continual right ufe of their feveral tal. 
ents and faculties. So that though men are not angels, 
yet they may know for what ends, and by what rules 
men are to live and a&, by confidering the ftate and per- 
fe&tion of angels. Our bleffled Saviour has plainly 
turned our thoughts this way, by ‘making this petition a 
conftant part of all our prayers, Thy will be done on earth 

as it is in heaven. A plain proof, that the obedience of 
men, Is to imitate the obedience of angels, and that ras 
tional beings on earth, are to live unto God, as rational -, 
beings iu heaven live unto him. * 

When therefore you would reprefent to your pe 
how Chriftians ought to live unto God, and in what de- 
grees of wifdom and holinefs they ought to ufe the 
thiugs of this life ; you muft not look at the world, but 
you muft look up to God and the fociety of angels, and — 
think what wifdom and holinefs is fit to prepare you for 
fuch a ftate of glory ; you muft look to all the higheft 
precepts of the gofpel.; you muft examine yourfelf by 
the fpiri it of Chrift ; you muft think how the wifeft men 
in the world have lived ¢ you muft think- how departed 
fouls would live, if they were again to aé the fhort part 
of human life ; you muft think what degrees of wifdo 
and holinefs, you will with for, when you are leaving the 
world. 

Now all this is not over-ftwaining the matter, or - prow 
pofing to ourfelves any needlefs perfection. It is but — 
barely complying with the Apoftle’s advice, where Jap 4 
fays, Finally brethren, whatfoever things are trues | zi ) 
foever things are Supt, whatfrever things are purest 

ever things are of good report ; if there be any virtue, Z 


oo.) se 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 7S 


there be any praifz, think on thefe things, Phil. iv. 8. For 
no one can come near the dodtrine of this paffage, but 
he that propofes to himfelf to do every thing in this hfe 
as afervant of God, to live by reafon in every thing that 
he does, and to make the wifdom and holinefs of the gof- 
pel, the rule and meafure of his defiring and ufing every 
gift of God. 


<> 


CHAP. VI. 


Containing the great obligations, and the great advantages 
of making a wife and religious ufe of our eftates and 
fortunes. 


AS the holinefs of Chriftianity confecrates all 
ftates and employments of life unto God, as it requires 
us to afpire after an univerfal obedience, doing and ufing 
every thing as the fervants of God, fo are we more ef- 
pecially obliged to obferve this religious exaCinefs, in the 
ufe of our eftates and fortunes. 

The reafon of this would appear very plain, if we 
were only to confider, that our eftate is as much the gift 
of God, as our eyes, or our hands, and is no more to be 
buried, or thrown away at pleafure, than we are to put 
Out our eyes, or throw away our limbs, as we pleafe. 

But befides this confideration, there are feveral other 
great and important reafons, why we fhiould be religioufly 
exaé in the ufe of our eftates. 

Firft, Becaufe the manner of ufing our money, or 
 fpending our eftate, eaters fo far into the bufinefs of 
every day, and makes fo great a part of our common 
_ life, that our common life muft be much of the fame na- 
ture, as our common way of fpending our eftate. If 
_ reafon and religion govern us in this; then reafon and 
% religion hath got great hold of us ; but if humour, pride 
_ and fancy, are the meafures of our {pending our eftates, 
then humour, pride and fancy, will have the direétion of 

the greateft part of our life. A a 
Secondly, Another great reafon for devoting all our 
*~ ; : 

# 5 G2 ‘ 


) 


m6 ~ a’ SERIOUS CALL ‘TO A 


eftate to right ufes, is this, becaufe it is cabo being © 
ufed to the moft excellent purpofes, and at a 
means of doing good. If we waite it, we fo wafte — 
a trifle, that fignifies little, but we waite that which 
might be made as eyes to the blind, as a hufband to the — 
widow, as a father to the orphan ; we wafte that, which — 
not only enables us to minifter worldly comforts to thofe 
that are in diftrefs, but that which might purchafe for 
ourfelves everlafting treafures in heaven. So that if we 
part with our money in foolifh ways, we part with a 
great power of comforting our fellow-creatures, and of 
making ourfelves for ever bleffed. 

If there be nothing fo glorious as doing good, if there 
is nothing that makes us fo like to God, then nothing 
ean be fo glorious in the ufe of our money, as to ufe it’ 
all in works of love and goodnefs, making ourfelves 
friends, fathers, benefactors, to all our fellow-creatures, 
imitating the divine love, and turning all our power into 
acts of generofity, care and kindnefe, to fuch as are in 
need of it. 

If a man had eyes, and hands, and feet, that he could — 
give to thofe that wanted them ; if he fhould either 
lock them up in a cheft, or pleafe himfelf with fome — 
needlefs or ridiculous ufe of them, inftead of giving them 
to his brethren that were blind and lame, fhould we not — 
juftly reckon him an inhuman wretch ? If he fhould — 
rather choofe to’ amufe himfelf with furnifhing his houfe 
with thofe things, than to entitle himfelf to an eternal 
reward, by giving them to thofe that wanted eyes and 
hands, ‘might we not juftly reckon him’mad ? 

Now money has very much the nature of eyes and 
feet ; if we either lock it up in chefts, or waite it in 
neediefs and ridiculous expenfes upon ourfelves, ben: 
the poor and the diftreffed want it for their necefla 
‘ufes ; if we confume it in the ridiculous ornaments 
apparel, whilft others are ftarving in nakednefs, we are 
not far from the cruelty of him that ere rather to 
adorn his houfe with the hands and eyes, bere bi 
them to thofe that want them. If we choofe to indu 
ourfelves in fuch expenfive enjoyments, as have n 
ufe in them, fuch as fatisfy no real want, rather 1 
entitle ourfelves to an eternal reward, by if 


we he 


5 


. DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. *F 


out mortey well, we are guilty of his madnefs, that 
rather choofes to lock up eyes and hands, than to make 
himfelf for ever bleffed, by giving them to thofe that 
want them. 

For after we have fatisfied our own fober and reafon- 
able wants, all the reft of our money is but like fpare 
eyes, or hands ; it is fomething that we cannot keep to 
ourfelves, without being foolifh in the ufe of it, fome- 
thing that can only be ufed well, by giving it to thofe 
that want it. ; 

Thirdly, if we wafte our money, we are not only 
guilty of wafting a talent which God has given us, we 
are not only guilty of making that ufelefs, which is fo 
powerful a means of doing good, but we do ourfelves 
this farther harm, that we turn this ufeful talent into a 
powerful means of corrupting ourfelves ; becaufe fo far 
as it is fpent wrong, fo far it is fpent in the fupport of 
fome wrong temper, in gratifying fome vain and unrea- 
fonable defires in conforming to thofe fafhions, and pride 
of the world, which, as Chriftians and reafonable men, 
we are obliged to renounce. 

As wit and fine parts cannot be trifled away and only 
loft, but will expofe thofe that have them into greater 
follies, if they are not ftri@tly devoted to piety ; fo mon- 
ey, if it is not ufed ftritly according to reafon and re- 
ligion, cannot only be trifled away, but it will betray peo- 
ple into greater follies, and make them live a more filly 
and extravagant life, than they could have done without 
it. If, therefore, you don’t {pend your money in doing 
good to others, you mutt {pend it to the hurt of your- 
felf. You will a&, like a man, that fhould refufe to 
give that as a cordial to a fick friend, though he could 
not drink it himfelf without inflaming his blood. For 


_ this is the cafe of fuperfluous money ; if you give it to 


thofe that want it, it is a cordial ; if you fpend it upon 
yourfelf in fomething that you do not want, it only in- 
flames and diforders your mind, and makes you worfe 
than you would be without it. 

Confider again the forementioned comparifon ; if the 


“man that would not make a right ufe of fpare eyes and 


hands, fhould by continually trying to ufe them himfelf, 


‘ie Est: ae 
> 


— y 


787 A SERIOUS CALL TO A #3 
{poil his own eyes and hands, we might juftly accufe 
; tim of ftill greater madnefs. . i Peek. 
Now this is truly the cafe of riches fpent upon our- 
felves in vain and needlefs expenfes ; in trying to ufe 
them where they have no real ufe, nor we any real want, 
we only ufe them to our great hurt, in creating unrea-  - 
fonable defires, in nourifhing ill tempers, in indulging 
our paffions, and fupporting a worldly, vain turn of — 
mind. For high eating and drinking, fine clothes, and 
fine houfes, ftate and equipage, gay pleafures and diver-. 
fions, do all of them naturally hurt and diforder our 
hearts ; they are the food and nourifhment of all the 
folly and weaknefs of our nature, and are certain means — 
to make us vain and worldly in our tempers. They are _ 
all of them the fupport of fomethmg that ought not to 
be fupported ; they are contrary to that fobriety and pi- 
ety of heart, which relifhes divine things; they are like © 
fo many weights upon our minds, that makes us lefs 
able, and lefs inclined to raife up our thoughts and affec- 
tions to the things that are above. “s 
So that money thus fpent, is not merely waited or ~ 
loft, but it is fpent to bad purpofes, and miferable effefts, 
to the corruption and diforder of our hearts, and to the : 
making us lefs able to live, up to the fublime doGtrines — 4 
of the gofpel. It is but like keeping money from the ~ 
poor, to buy poifon for ourfelves. B: if 
For fo much as is {pent in the vanity of drefs, may be — 
reckoned fo much laid out to fix vanity im our minds, — 
So much as is laid out for idlenefs and indulgence, may 
be reckoned fo much given to render our hearts dull and 
fenfual. So much as is {pent in ftat®and equipage, may 
be reckoned fo much fpent to dazzle your own eyes, 
and render you the idol of your own imagination. And 
fo in every thing, when you go from reafonable wants, - 
you only fupport fome unreafonable temper, fome turn 
of mind, which every good chriftian is called upon to” 
renounce. Rae 3 ees 
So that on all accounts, whether we confider our for- 
tune as a talent and truft from God; or the great goo 
that it enables us to do, or the great harm that it do 
_ ourfelves, if idly fpent ; on all thefe great accoun 


emer, vlog 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 79 


appeats, that it is abfolutely neceffary, to make reafon 
and religion the ftri& rule of ufing all our fortune. 
' Every exhortation in fcripture to be wife and reafon- 
able, fatisfying only fuch wants as God would have 
fatisfied ; every exhortation to be fpiritual and heavenly, 
prefling after a glorious change of our nature ; every 
_ exhortation to love our neighbour as ourfelves, to love 
all mankind as God has loved them, is a command to 
_ be ftriétly religious in the ufe of our money. For none 
of thefe ten®pers can be complied with, unlefs we be 
wife and reafonable, fpiritual and heavenly, exercifing a 
brotherly love, a godlike charity in the ufe of all our 
fortune. Thefe tempers, and this ufe of our worldly 
goods, is fo much the doétrine of all the New Telfta- 
ment, that you cannot read a chapter, without being 
taught fomething of it. I ‘hall only produce one re-_ 
markable paflage of {cripture, which is fufficient to juf- 
tify all that I have faid concerning this religious ufe of 
all our fortune. : 


« When the Son of man fhall come in his glory, and . 


all the holy Angels with him, then fhall he fit upon the 
throne of his glory. And before him fhall-be gathered 
all nations ; and he fhall feparate them one from another, 
_ as a fhepherd divideth the fheep from the goats ; and he 
- fhall fet the fheep on his right hand, but the goats on the 
left. Then fhall the King fay unto them on. his right 
_ hand, Come, ye blefled of my Father, inherit the king- 
_ dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 
| For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was 
' thirfty, and ye gave.me drink ; J was a ftranger and ye 
| took me in ; naked, 4nd ye clothed me ; I was fick and 
Be vifited me ; I was in prifon and ye came unto me.— 
_ Then fhall he fay unto them on the left hand, Depart 
- from me, ye curfed, into everlafting fire, prepared for 
' the devil and his angels : for I was an hungred, and ye 
_ gave me no meat ; I was thirfty, and ye gave me no 
’ drink ; I was a ftranger, and ye took me not in: naked, 
_ and ye clothed me not ; fick, andin prifon, and ye vifited 
" me not. Thefe fhall go away into everlafting punifh- 
i: but the righteous into life eternal.” bi 
4 I have quoted this paflage at length, becaufe if one 
looks at the way of the world, one would hardly think, 


th 
~ 


ei ee 


80 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


. 


that Chriftians had ever read this part of “Weriptures._ 
For what is there in the lives of Chriftians, that looks | 
as if their falvation depended upon thefe ee words ? 
And yet the neceffity of them is here affertéd in the — 
higheft manner, and preffed upon us by a lively deferip- — 
tion of the glory and terrors of the day of judg- — 
ment. 

Some people, even of thofe who Lia be rates 
virtuous Chriitians, look upon this text onl asa general 
recommendation of occafional works of charity ; + aacle 
as it fhews the necefflity not only of occafional charities 
now and then, but the neceffity of fuch an entire char- 
itable life, as is a continual exercife of all fuch works of | 
charity as we are able to perform. 

You own, that you have no title to falvation, ‘if you 
’ have negleéted thefe good works ; becaufe fuch perfons 
as have negleéted them, are at the laft day to be placed 
on the left hand, and banifhed with a depart ye curfed. 
There is, fhestfors, no falvation but in the performance 
of thefe good works. Who is it, therefore, that may 
be faid to have performed thefe good works? Is it he — 
that has fometimes affifted a prifoner, or relieved the 
poor or fick? This would be as abfurd, as to fay, that ~ 
he had performed the duties of devotion, who had fome- — 
times faid his prayers. Is it, therefore, he that has fey- — 
eral times done thefe works of charity ? This can no 

more be faid, than he can be faid to be the truly juit 
man, who had done aéts of juftice feveral times. at? 
is the rule therefore, or meafure of performing thefe — 
good works? How shall 2 man truft that he pots 
them as he ought ? 

Now the rule is very plain aa eafy, and fuch as , 
common to every other virtue, or good temper, as 
as to charity.— Who is the humble, or meek, or devout, 
or juft, or faithful man ? Is it,hé that has feverat times 
done atts of humility, meeknefs, devotion,- juttice, 
fidelity ? No. But it is he that lives in the habitual eX= 
ercife of thefe virtues. In like manner, he onl 
faid to have performed thefe works of charity, 2% l 
in the habitual exercife of them to the utmoft of his pi 
er. He only has performed the duty of divine love 


1% 


who loves: ‘God with all his heart, and with all his 
Se 


' 
4 


9 < 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 8h 


and with all his ftrength. And he only has performed 
the duty of thefe good works, who has done them with 
all his heart, and with all his mind, and with all his 
ftrength. For there is no other meafure of our doing 
good, than our power of doing it. 

The Apoftle St. Peter puts this queftion to our bleffed 
Saviour, Lord, how oft fhall my brother fin againft me, and 
LT forgive him, till feven times ? Jefus faith 
unto him, I fay not unto thee, until feven Matt. iii. 22. 
times ; but until feventy times feven. Not 
as if after this number of offences, a man might then 
ceafe to forgive ; but the expreffion of feventy times fev- 
en, is to fhew us that we are not to bound our forgive- 
__ nefs by any number of offences, but are to continue for- 
| giving the moft repeated offences againft us. Thus our 
' Saviour faith in another place, if he 
 trefpafs againft thee feven times in a Luke xvii. 4. 
) day, and feven times in a day turn again 
to thee, faying, I repent, thou fhalt forgive him. If, _ 
: therefore, a man ceafes to forgive his brother, becaufe 
he has forgiven him often already ; if he excufes himfelf 
' from forgiving this man, becaufe he has forgiven feveral 
| others ; fuch a one breaks this law of Chrift, concerning 
+ the forgiving one’s brother. 

: Now the rule of forgiving, is alfo the rule of giving ; 
° you are not to give, or do good to feven, but to feventy 
| times feven. You are not to ceafe from giving, becaufe 
you have given often to the fame perfon, or to other 


~a 


perfons ; but muft look upon yourfelf as much obliged 
to continue relieving thofe that continue in wants, as 

_ you was obliged to relieve them--once, or twice. Had 
it not been in your power, you had been excufed from 

| relieving any perfon once ; but if it is in your power to 
| relieve people often, it is as much your duty to do it 
; 4 often, as it is the duty of others to do it but feldom, 
| becaufe they are but feldom able. He that is not ready 
| to forgive every brother, as often as he wants to be for- 
\; given, does not forgive like a difciple of Chrift. And 
_ he that is not ready to give to every brother, that wants 
to have fomething given him, does not give like a difci- 

| ple of Chrift. For it is as neceflary to give to feventy 


$ ‘times feven, to live in the continual exercife of all good 
‘. t. ; * 


" ftrive to fulfil all charitable works, if you negleé& any of 


. 


= 2 o TO Ree Oe | 
82 A SERIOUS CALL TO A - ein 
works to the utmoft of our power, as it is neceflary to | 
forgive until feventy times feven, and live in the habit- — 
ual exercife of this forgiving temper towards all that — 
want it. anh , 
find the reafon of all this is very plain, becaufe there 
is the fame goodnefs, the fame excellency, and the fame — 
neceflity of being thus charitable at one time, as at an- 
other. It is as much the beft ufe of our money, to be 
always doing good with it, as it is the beft ufe of it at 
any particular time ; fo that that which is a reafon for 
a charitable a@tion, is as good a reafon for a charitable 
life. That which is a reafon for forgiving one offence, 
is the fame reafon for forgiving all iencke - For fuch 
charity has nothing to recommend it to-day, but what 
will be the fame recommendation of it to-morrow ; and 
you cannot negle& it at one timie, without being guilty 
of the fame fin, as if you negle€ted it at another time. 

As fure, therefore, as thefe works of charity are ne- 
eeflary to falvation, fo fure is it, that we are to do them © 
to the utmoftyf our power ; not to-day, or to-morrow, 
but through the whole courfe of our life. If therefore — 
it be our duty at any time to deny ourfelves any needlefs — 
expenfes, to be moderate and frugal, that we may have © 
to give to thofe that want, it is as much our duty to do 
fo at all times, that we may be farther able te do more — 
good : for if it is at any time a fin to prefer needlefs, 
vain expenfe to works of charity, it is fo at all times: 
becaufe charity as much excels all needlefs and vain ex- 
penfes at one time as at another. So that if it is ever 
aeceflary to our falvation, to take care of thefe works of 
charity, and to fee that we make ourfelves in fome de- 


_ @eecapable of doing them ; it is as neceflary to our fal- 
~ vation, to take care to make ourfelves as capable as we 
ean be, of performing them in all the parts of our life. 


Either therefore you muft fo far renounce your Chrif- 
tianity, as to fay, that you need never perform any of 
thefe good works ; or you muft own, that you are to 
perform them all your life in as high a degree as you 
are able. There is no middle way to be taken, any 
more than there is a middle way betwixt pride and hu- — 
mility, or temperance and intempetance. If you do not 


eo 
thet 


4 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 83 


them that are in your power, and deny affiftance to thofe 
that want what you can give, let it be when it will, or 
where it will, you number yourfelf amongft thofe that 
want Chriftian charity. Becaufe it is as much your 
duty to do good with all that you have, and to live in 
the continual exercife of good works, as it is your duty 
to be temperate in all that you eat and drink. 

Hence alfo appears the neceffity of renouncing all thofe 
foolifh and unreafonable expenfes, which the pride and 
folly of mankind has made fo common and fafhionable 
in the world. Forif it isneceffary to do good works as 
far as you are able, it muft be as neceflary to renounce 
thofe needlefs ways of {pending money, which render 
you unable to do works of charity. 

You mutt therefore no more conform to thefe ways 
of the world, than you mutt conform to the vices of the 
world: you muft no more fpend with thofe that idly 
waite their money as their own humour leads them, than 
you muit drink with the drunken, or indulge yourfelf 
with the epicure ; becaufe a courfe of fuch expenfes is 
no more confiftent with a life of charity, than excefs in 


drinking is confiftent with a life of fobriety. When 


therefore any one tells you of the lawfulnefs of expenfive 


apparel, of the innocency of pleafing yourfelf with coftly 
fatisfactions, only imagine that the fame perfon was to 
tell you, that you need not do works of charity, that 
Chrift does not require you to do good unto your poor 


_ brethren, as unto him, and then you will fee the wicked- 


nefs of fuch advice ; for to tell you, that you may live 


_ in fuch expenfes, as to make it impoffible for you to live 
_ in the exercife of good works, is the fame thing as tell- 
_ ing you, that you need not have any care about fuch 
_ good works themfelves. 


84 A SERIOUS GALL TO A 


<t 
ak) 


CHAP. VIL ©” 
How. the imprudent ufe of an eltate corrupts all ‘il tems 
_ pers of the mind, and fils the heart with poor and ridic- 
ulous pajfions through the whole courfe of wi 3 reprefented 


‘» in the charader of “Flavia. 


IT has already been obferved, that a Ls 
and religious care is to be ufed, in the manner 0 {pend- 
ing our money or eftate, bectule the manner of ff 
our eltate makes fo great a part of our common life, at 
is fo much the bufinefs of every day, that according as 
we are wife, or imprudent, in this refpeG, the whole 
courfe of our lives, will be rendered either very wile, or 
very full of folly. 

Perfons that are well affeGted to religion, that receive 
inftruGtions of piety with pléafure aod fatisksdhion often 
wonder how it comes to pafs, that they make no greater 
progrefs in that religion which they fo ‘much admire. © 

Now the reafon of it is this: it is becaufe rel 
lives only in their head, but fomething elfe has er 
fion of their hearts ; and therefore they continue from 
year to year mere admirers, and praifers of piety, with- — 

: a“ coming up to the reality and perfection of its 


* If it . aiked why religion does not get poffeffion of 
their hearts, the reafon is this. It is not becaufe they 
live in ‘Profs fins, or debaucheries, for their regard to re- 
_ ligion preferves them from fuch diforders. 

But it is becaufe their hearts are conftantly, loyed, 
perverted, and*kept in a wrong ftate, by the i 
ufe of fuch things as are lawful to be ufed. 

The ufe and enjoyment of their eftates is lawful, heal 
therefore it never comes into their heads to i ‘any 
great danger from that quarter. They neverrefleét, that 
there is a vain, and imprudent ufe of their a 
though it does not deftroy like grofs fs 
the beart, and fupports it in fuch fenfi 
. fuch pride and vanity, as makes it i 
- the life and fpirit of wey: 


*4 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 85 


For our fouls may receive an infinite hurt, and be ren- 

dered incapable of all virtue, merely by the ufe of inno- 
_ cent and lawful things. 

What is more innocent than reft and retirement ? And 
yet what more dangerous, than floth and idlenefs ? What 
is more lawful than eating and drinking ? And yet what 

_ more deftruétive of all virtue, what more fruitful of all 
vice, than fenfuality and indulgence ? 
_ How lawful and praife-worthy is the care of a fami- 

? And yet how certainly are many people rendered 
incapable of all virtue, by a worldly and folicitous tem- 

> 


Now it is for want of religious exa€tnefs in the ufe of 
thefe innocent and lawful things, that religion cannot 
get pofleffion of our hearts. And it is in the right and 

¢ management of ourfelves, as to thefe things, 
that all the art of holy living chiefly confifts. ‘ 

Grofs fins are plainly feen, and eafily avoided by per- 
fons that profefs religion. But the indifcreet and dan- 

rous ufe of innocent and lawful things, as it does not 
fhock and offend our confcience, fo it is difficult to make 
people at all fenfible of the danger of it. 

_ A gentleman that expends all his eftate in fports, and 
a woman that lays out all her fortune upon herfelf, can 
* hardly be perfuaded that the fpirit of religion cannot _ 
fubfift in fuch a way of life. 

Thefe perfons, as has been obferved, may live free 
from debaucheries, they may be friends of religion, fo 
far as to praife and fpeak well of it, and admire it in 
their imaginations ; but it cannot govern their hearts, 

_ and by the fpirit of their ations, till they change their 
__ way of life, and let religion give laws to the ufe and 
_ fpending of their eftates. 

For a woman that loves drefs, that thinks no expenfe 
too great to beftow upon the adorning of her perion, 
cannot ftop there. For that temper draws a thoufand 

other follies along with it, and will render the whole ° 
_ courfe a We life, he her converfation, her 
___ hopes, ears, her » her and diverfions, 
___ Flavia and Miranda are two maiden fifters, that, have 
| each of them two hundred pounds a year. They buried 
Rest ; 
whe “ - = “<< 
\ 


' ae 3 


86 A SERIOUS CALL.TO A, 


their parents twenty years ago, and have fince that time | 
{pent their eftate as they pleafed. ~~ 

Flavia has been the wonder of all her friends, for her 
excellent management, in making fo furprifing a figure 
on fo moderate a fortune. Several ladies that have twice 
her fortune, are not able always to be fo genteel, and 
fo conftant at all places of pleafure and expenfe. _ She 
has every thing that is in the fathion, and is in every 
place where there is any diverfion. Flavia is very 
orthodox, fhe talks warmly againft heretics, and fchif- 
matics, is generally at church, and often at the facra- 
ment. She once commended a fermon that was againft q 
the pride and vanity of drefs, and thought it was ver 
jut againft Lucinda, whom fhe takes to be a great deal 
finer than fhe need to be. If any one afks Flavia to do 
fomething in charity, if fhe likes the perfon who makes 
the propofal, or happens to be in aright temper, fhe will 
tofs him half a crown, or a crown, and tell him, if Te 
knew what a long milliner’s bill fhe had | juft received he 
would think it a great deal for her to give. A quarter 
of a year after this, fhe hears a fermon upon the neceflity 
of charity ; fhe thinks the man preaches well, that it 
is a very proper fubjeét, that people want much to. be 
put in mind of it ; but fhe applies nothing to herfelf, be- | 
eaufe fhe remembers that fhe gave a crown fome time 
ago, when fhe could fo ill fpare it. 

_A\s for poor people themfelves, fhe will admit of no 
complaints from them ; fhe is very pofitive they are all 
cheats and liars, and will fay any thing to get relief, and. 
therefore it muft be a fin to encourage_them in their evil 
ways. 

én would think Flavia had the tendereft confeience 
in the world, if you_was to fee how fcrupulous and 
apprehenfive fhe is of the guilt and danger of giving 
amifs. 

She buys all books of wit and humour, and has 
made an expenfive colleétion of all our Englith 1 Poe ae 
For, fhe fays, one'cannot have a true taite of | any of | 
them, without being very converfant. with them them all. oa 

_ She will fometimes read a book of piety, if i it is a 
fhort. one, if it is much commended for ve and Jan- 
guage, and fhe can tell where to borrow it, ~ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 8&7 


Flavia is very idle, and yet very fond of fine works ; 
this makes her often fit working in bed until noon, and 
be told many a long ftory before fhe is up; fo that I 
need not tell you that her morning devotious are not 
always rightly petformed._ - 

Flavia would be a miracle of piety, if fhe was but half 
fo careful of her foul as fhe is of her body. The rifing of 
‘a pimple in her face, the fting of a gnat, will make her 
keep her room two or three days, and fhe thinks they 
are very rafh people, that do not take care of things in 
time. This makes her fo over-careful of her health, 
that fhe never thinks fhe is well enough ; and fo over- 
indulgent, that fhe never can be really well. So that it 
cofts her a great deal in fleeping-draughts, and waking- 
draughts, in fpirits for the head, in drops for the 
nerves, in cordials for the ftomach, and in faffron for 
her tea. ' 

If you vifit Flavia on the Sunday, you will always 
meet good company, you will know what is doing in the 
world, you will hear the laft lampoon, be told who wrote 
it, and who is meant by every name that isin it. You 
will hear what plays were ated that week, which is the 
fineft fong in the opera, who was intolerable at the laf 

_ affembly, and what games are moft in fafhion. Flavia 
_ thinks they are atheifts that play at cards on the Sun- 
_ day, but fhe will tell you the nicety of all the games, 

‘what cards fhe held, how fhe played them, and the hif- 
_ tory of all that happened at play, as foon as fhe comes 
from church. If you would know who is rude and ill- 
natured, who is vain and foppifh, who lives too high, — 
and who isin debt. If you would know what is i 
_ quarrel at a certain houfe, or who and who are in love. 
If you would know how late Belinda comes homie at 
night, what clothes fhe has bought, how fhe loves com- 
pliments, and what a long ftory fhe told at fuch a place. 
If you would know how crofs Lucius is to his wife, 
what ill-natured things -he fays to her when nobody 
hears him ; if you would know how they hate one an- 
other in their hearts, though they appear fo kind in pub- 
lic ; you muft vifit Flavia on the Sunday. ‘But flill-the 
has fo great a regard for the holinefs ofthe Sunday, that 
_ the has, turned a poor old widow out of her houfes, asa 
; H2 ct 
Ps 


3 


$8 .. A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


profane wretch, for having been found once mending | 
her clothes on the Sunday night. stapes | 

Thus lives Flavia ; and if the lives ten ‘years longer, : 
fhe will have fpent about fifteen hundred and fixty Sun- — 
days after this manner. She will have wore eames J 
hundred different fuits of clothes. Out of this thirty yea 
of her life, fifteen of them will have been ed Uf in 
bed ; and of the remaining fifteen, about een of 
them will have been confumed in eating, drinking, dreff- 
ing, vifiting, converfation, reading and hearing plays 
and romances, at operas, affemblies, balls and diver- 
fions. For you may reckon all the time fhe is up, thus 
{pent, except about an hour and a half, that is difpofed of 
at church, moft Sundays in the year. With great man- 
agement, and under mighty rules of economy, fhe will 
have fpent fixty hundred pounds upon herfelf, bating 
only fome thillings, crowns, or half-crowns, that have 
gone from her in accidental charities. 

T thall not take upon me to fay, that it is  jnipottill 
for Flavia to be faved ; but thus much muft be faid, 
that fhe has no grounds ‘from scripture to think fhe is in 
the way of falvation. For her whole life is in dire&t op- 
pofition to all thofe tempers and praétices, which ue 
gofpel has made neceffary to falvation. 

If you was to hear her fay, that the had lived all er 
life like Anne the prophetefs, who departed not from the 
temple, but ferved God with faftings and prayers night and 
@ay, you would look upon her as very extravagant ; and 
‘yet this would be no greater an extravagance, than for 
her to fay, that fhe had been friving to enter in at the 

Jfirait gate, or making any one doGrine of the gofpel, a 
rule of her life. 

She may as well fay, that fhe lived with our Saviour 
when he was upon earth, as that fhe has lived in imita- 
tion of him, or made it any part of her care to live i 7 
fuch tempers, as he required of all thofe that would be 
his difciples. She may as truly fay, that the has « 
day wathed the faints’ feet, as that fhe has lived in ¢ 
jan humility, and poverty of fpirit ; and as reafe 
think, that fhe has taught a charity-fchool, as t 
has lived in works of charity. She has as 
to think, that fhe has been a centinel in an “yy 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. ‘89 


the has lived in watching and felf-denial. And it may 
as fairly be faid, that fhe lived by the labour of her 
hands, as that fhe had given all diligence to make her call- 
ing and eledtion fure. 

_ And here it is well to be obferved, that the poor, vain 
turn of mind, the irreligion, the folly and vanity of this 
whole life of Flavia, is all owing to the manner of ufing 
her eftate.. It is this that has formed her fpirit, that 
has given life to every idle temper, that has fupported 
every trifling paflion, and kept her from all thoughts of 
a prudent, ufeful, and devout life. 

When her parents died, fhe had no thought about her 
two hundred pounds a year, but that fhe had fo much 
money to do what fhe would with, to {pend upon herfelf, 
and purchafe the pleafures and gratifications of all her 
paffions, 

And it is this fetting out, this f-'" judgment, and 
indifcreet ufe of their fortune, that alled her whole 
life with the fame indifcretion, and kept her from think- 
ing of what is right, and wife, and pious in every thing 
elfe. 


If you have feen her delighted in plays and romances, 

in f{eandal and backbiting, eafily flattered, and foon af- 
fronted. If you have feen her devoted to pleafures and 
diverfions, a flave. to every paflion in its turn, nice in 
every thing that concerned her body or drefs, carelefs 
of every thing that might benefit her foul, always want- 
ing fome new entertainment, and ready for every happy 
invention, in fhew or drefs, it was becaufe fhe had pur- 
chafed all thefe tempers with the yearly revenue of her 
fortune. 

She might have been humble, ferious, devout, a lover 
of good books, an admirer of prayer and retirement, 

_ careful of her time, diligent in good works, full of 
charity and the love of God, but that the imprudent 
a her eftate forced all the contrary tempers upon 

er. 

And it was no wonder, that the fhould turn her time, 
her mind, her health and ftrength to the fame ufes that 
_ the turned her fortune. It is owing to her being wrong 

in fo great an article of life, that you can fee nothing 


‘90 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


wife, or reafonable, or pious in any other part of it, 

Now though the irregular trifling fpirit of this char- 
aéter belongs, I hope, but to few people, yet many may 
here learn fome inftru€tion from it, and perhaps fee 
fomething of their own fpirit in it. 

For as Flavia feems to be undone by the unreafonable 
ufe of her fortune, fo the lownefs of moft people’s vir- 
tue, the imperfeGtions of their piety, and the diforders of 
their paffions, is generally owing to their imprudent ufe 
and enjoyment of lawful and innocent things. 

More people are kept from a true fenfe and ftate of 
religion by a regular kind of fenfuality and indulgence, 
than by grofs drunkennefs, More men live regardlefs 
of the great duties of piety, through too great a concern 
for worldly goods, than through direé injuftice. 

This man would perhaps be devout, if he was not fo 
great a virtuofo. Another is deaf to all the motives to 
piety, by indulging an idle, flothful temper. 

Could you cure this man of his great curiofity and 
inquifitive temper, or that of his falfe fatisfa€tion and 
thirft after learning, you need do no more to make them 
both become men of great piety. 

If this woman would make fewer vifits, or that not be 
always talking, they would neither of them find it half 
fo hard to be affeéted with religion. 

For all thefe things are only little, when they are 
compared to great fins; and though they are little in 
that refpedt, yet they are great, as they are impediments, 
and hindrances of a pious fpirit. 

For as confideration is the only eye of the foul, as the 


~» truths of religion can be feen by nothing elfe, fo what- 


ever raifes a levity of mind, a trifling {pirit, renders the 
foul incapable of feeing, apprehending, and relifhing the 
doétrines of piety. 

Would we therefore make a real progrefs 1 in religion, 
we muft not only abhor grofs and notorious fins, but we 
muft regulate the innocent and lawful parts of our be- 
haviour, and put the moft common and allowed ager ys 
of life under ys rules of difcretion and piety ton 4 ‘. r% 


lad * 
< 1 te 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE: St 


—e CHAP. VIIL 


Blt wif and pie ofe of om ate ntl ari 
_to great Zion im all the virtues of the Chrifitan [ife ; 
reprefented im the characder of Miranda. - 
“ANY one pious regularity of any one part of 
our life, is of great advantage, not only on its own ac- 
count, but as it ufes us to live by rule, and think of the 
of ourfelves. 

A man of bufinefs, that has brought one part of his 
affairs under certain rules, is in a fair way to take the 
of the eft. 
he that has brought any one part of his life under 
rules of religion, may thence be taught to extend 
fame order and regularity into other parts of his life. 

one is fo wife to think his time too pernicious 
Se daeae of by chance, and left to he devoured 
thing that happens im his way. If he lays bim- 
fF under a neceffity of obferving how every day goes 

. his hands, and obliges himfelf to a certain or- 
his bufinefs, his retirements, and devotions, 
2b handy to be imagined, how foon fuch a condué& 
would reform, improve, and perfect the whole courfe of 


He that once knows the value, and reaps the advan- 
tage of a well-ordered time, will not long be a ftranger 
open ie 93 fine cle tint 5 of ay nal oncom, 


A rule that relates even to the fmalleft part of our life, 
is of great benefit to us, merely as it is a rule. 
For, ane proverb faith, He that has begun wall, has 


Hee 


ae 


n 


3 


* ; ” 


2 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


his fleep, through fear of a lethargy, he might be = 
in thefe rules, without being a ais WES 2 
them. 

Bat when he is moderate and regular i in any. thefe 
_ things, out of a fenfe of Chriftian fobriety, wrk Sec ; 
nial, that he may offer unto God a more reafonable and — 
holy life, then it is that the fmalleft rule of this. kind, is 
naturally the beginning of great piety. 

For the {malle# rule in thefe matters is 0 of gut bas 


&t, it teaches we fone as 
felves, as it keeps upa tendernefs of mind, as | 


God often to cor sgh and ring eo = 
into the ordinary aGtions of our common life. ia 
if a maz, toes k ee aT 
one fwore, talked lewdly, or fpoke evil of 
fhould make it a rule to himfelf, either gently to 

kim, or if that was not proper, ioe 
pany 2s decently as he could 5 he would find, that 
little rule, like s Title leave Bi a8 est Se i 


ing upon worldly matters, as trade, mews, and the kes 
if he fhould devote the day, befides the public sorfhip, 
to greater retirement, reading, devotion, infiroGion, ant 


mono he cof oe aly al perhap 
thereby find fuch 2 change male a fuch_ 
iS coc of picty cated in lee as he was an enti 


are our time, and our moncy. alents a 
tinual means and opportunities of doing 


* DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 98 


He that is pioufly ftriG@, and exa& in the wife man- 
ent of either of thefe, cannot be long ignorant of the 
right ufe of the other. And he that is happy in the re- 
ligious care and difpofal of them both, is already afcend- 
ed feveral fteps upon the ladder of Chriftian perfeCtion. 
Miranda, (the fifter of Flavia) is a fober reafonable 
Chriftian ; as foon as fhe was miftrefs of her time and 
fortune, it was her firft thought how the might beft ful- 
fil every thing that God required of her in the ufe of 
them, and how fhe might make the beft and happieft ufe 
of this fhort life. She depends upon the truth of what 
our bleffed Lord hath faid, that there is but one thing need- 
ful, and therefore makes her whole life but one continual 
labour after it. She has but one reafon for doing or not 
doing, for liking or not liking any thing, and that is the 
will of God. She is not fo weak as to pretend to add, 
what is called the fine lady, to the true Chriftian; Mi- 
randa thinks too well to be taken with the found of fuch 
filly words ; fhe has renounced the -world, to follow 
Chrift in the exercife of humility, charity, devotion, ab- 
ftinence, and heavenly affe€tions ; and that is Miranda’s 
fine breeding. 

Whilft the was under her mother, fhe was forced to be 
genteel, to live in ceremony, to fit up late at nights, to 
be in the folly of every fafhion, and always vifiting on 
Sundays. To go patched, and loaded with a burden 
of finery to the holy facrament ; to be in every polite 
converfation, to hear profanenefs at the play-houfé, 
and wanton fongs and love intrigues at the opera, to 

‘dance at public places, that fops and rakes might admire 
the finenefS of her fhape, and the beauty of her mo- 
tions. The remembrance of this way of life, makes 
her exceedingly careful to atone for it, by a contrary 
behaviour. © ' 

Miranda does not divide her duty between God, her 
neighbour, and herfelf, but fhe confiders all as due to 
God, and fo does every thing in his name, and for his 
fake. _This makes her confider her fortune as the gift of 
‘God, that is to be ufed as every thing is, that belongs to 

for the wife and reafonable ends of a chriftian and 

aly life. Her fortune therefore is divided betwixt her- 

f, and feveral other poor people, and fhe has only her 


’ na oe 1 > ee - 
34 A SERIOUS CALL TOA © : t 


part of relief from it. She thinks it the fame folly to 
indulge herfelf in needlefs, vam expenfes, as to gi 
other people to fpend in the fame way: — “ “as 
she will not give a poor man money to-go to fee a pup- 
pet-fhow, neither will the allow herfelf any to fpend in 


folly and 2 crime in a poor man, fays Miranda, to wafte 
what is given him, in foolifh trifies, whilft he wants meat, 
drink, and clothes ? And is it lefs folly, or a lefs crime 
in me to fpend that money in filly diverfions, which 
might be fo much better {pent in imitation of the divme 
goodnefs, in works of kindnefs and charity towards my 
fellow creatures, and fellow Chriftians ? If a poor man’s 
own neceffities are a reafon, why he thould not wafte 
any of his money idly, furely the neceflities of the poor, — 
the excellency of charity, which is received as done to 
Chrit himflf, is a much gretter alee ane ea 
Should cver walk: any of kan For if he does 
he does not only do like the poor man, only wafte 
which he wants himfelf, but he waites that which 
wanted for the moft noble ufe, and which Chnit himfelf 
is ready to receive at his hands. And if we are angry 
at a poor man, and look upon him as a : 
he throws away that which fhould his own c 
how muft we appear in the fight of God, if we makea 
wanton idle ufe of that which would buy bread an 

clothes for the hungry and naked brethren, who are a8 
near and dear to God as we are, and fellow heirs of the 
fame ftate of future glory ? This is the {pirit of Mira 
da, and thus fhe ufes the gifts of God : the is only. aus 
oe ore wepber of pow 2a elieved « 

of ber fortune, and the only differs from them i 


Ea ing it hrm 
eae wakes. 


p DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 95 


Every morning fees her early at her prayers, fhe re- 
joiees in the beginning of every day, becaule it begins 
her pious rules of holy living, and brings the frefh 
pleafure of repeating them. She feems to be as a guar- 
dian angel to thofe that dwell about her, with her watch- 
ings and prayers bleffing the place where fhe dwells, and 
making interceffion with God for thofe that are afleep. 
Her devotions have had fome intervals, and God has 
heard feveral of her private prayers, before the light is 
fuffered to enter into her fifter’s room. Miranda does 
not know what it is to have a dull half-day ; the returns 
of her hours of prayer, and her religious exercifes, come 
too often to let any confiderable part of time lie heavy 
upon her hands. 

When you fee her at work, you fee the fame wifdom 
that governs all her other ations, fhe is either doing 
fomething that is neceflary for herfelf or neceflary for 
others, who-want to be aflifted. There is fearce a poor 
family in the neighbourhood, but wears fomething or 
ether that has had the labour of her hands. Her wife 
and pious mind, neither wants the amufement, nor can 
hear with the folly of idle and impertinent work. She 
can admit of no fuch folly as this in the day, becaufe 
the is to anfwer for all her ations at night. When 
there is no wifdom to be obferved in the employment of 
her hands, when there is no ufeful or charitable work to 
be done, Miranda will work no more. At her table 
fhe lives ftriély by this rule of holy feripture, whether 

eat or drink, or whatfoever ye do, do all to the glory of 

id. ‘This makes her begin and end every meal, as fhe 
begins and ends every day, with a@ts of devotion: fhe 
eats and drinks only for the fake of living, and with fo 
fegular an abftinence, that every meal is an exercife 
of felf-denial, and fhe humbles her body, every time 
that the is forced to feed it. If Miranda was to run a 
Face for her life, the would fubmit to a diet that was 
proper for it. But as the race which is fet before her, 
is a race of holinefs, purity, and heavenly affe@tion, 
which fhe is to finifhan a corrupt, difordered body of 

rthly paffions, fo her every day diet has only this one 

i, to make her body fitter for this {piritual race. She 

es not weigh her meat in a pair of fcales, but fhe ~ 

T 


oF" >. 


96 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


weighs it ina much better balance ; fo much as gives a 
proper ftrength to her body, and renders it cable and 
willing to obey the foul, to join in pfalms and prayers, 
and lift wp eyes and hands towards heaven with greater 
readinefs, fo much is Miranda’s meal. So that Miranda 
will never have her eyes {well with fatnefs, or pant under 
a heavy load of flefh, till the has changed her relig- 
ion. 

The holy {criptures, efpecially of the New Teftament, 
are her daily ftudy; thefe fhe reads with a watchful 
attention, conftantly cafting an eye upon herfelf, and 
trying herfelf, by every doétrine that is there. When. 
fhe has the New 'Teftament in her hand, the fuppofes 
herfelf at the feet of our Saviour and his apoftles, and 
makes every thing that fhe’ learns of them, fo many 
laws of her life. She receives their facred words with as 
much attention, and reverence, as if fhe faw their per- 
fons, and knew that they were juft come from heaven, 
on purpofe to teach her the way that leads to it. ; 

She thinks, that the trying herfelf every day by the 
doGtrines of fcripture, is the only poffible way to be 
ready for her trial at the laft day. She is fometimes 
afraid that fhe lays out too much money in books, be- 
caufe fhe cannot forbear buying all praétical books of 
any note ; efpecially fuch as enter into the heart of re- 
ligion, and defcribe the inward holinefs of the Chriftian 
life. But of all human writings the lives of pious per- 
fons, and eminent faints, are her greateft delight. In 
thefe the fearches as for hidden treafure, hoping to find 
fome fecret of holy living, fome uncommon degree of 
piety, which fhe may make her own. By this means 
Miranda has her head and heart ftored with all the prin- 
ciples of wifdom and holinefs, fhe is fo full of the one 
main bufinefs of life, that fhe finds it difficult to converfe 
upon any other fubjeét ; and if you are in her company, 
when fhe thinks proper to talk, you muft be made wifer 
and better, whether you will or no. vii ies 

To relate her charity, would be to relate the hiftory 
of every day for twenty years ; for fo long has all het 
fortune been fpent that way. She has fet up near tw 
poor tradefmen that had failed in their bufinefs, a 
faved as many from failing. She has educe aN 


F ¢ DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 97 
poor children, that were picked up in the ftreets, and 
put them in a way of an honeft employment. As foon 
as any labourer is cenfined at home with ficknefs, the 
fends him till he recovers, twice the value of his wages, 
that he may have one part to give to his family, as ufual, 
and the other to provide things convenient for his fick- 
nefs, 
_ Ifa family feems toc large to be fupported by the 
labour of thofe that can work in it, fhe pays their rent, 
and gives them fomething yearly towards their clothing. 
By this means there are many poor families that live in 
ea comfortable manner, and are from year to year blefling 
her in their prayers. 
_. If there is any poor man or woman, that is more than 
~ordinarily wicked and reprobate, Miranda has her eye 
upon them, fhe watches their time of need and adverfity ; 
and if the can difcover that they are in any great firaits 
_ or affliction, the gives them fpeedy relief. She has this 
care for this fort of people, becaufe the once faved a very 
profligate perfon from being carried to prifon, who im- 
jately became a true penitent. 
_ There is nothing in the character of Miranda more to 
tbe admired, than thistemper. For this tendernefs of 
| affeGtion towards the moft abandoned finners, is the high- 
eft inftance of a divine and godlike foul. 
_ Miranda once pafled by a houfe, where the man and 
his wife were curfing and {wearing at one another ma 
 moft dreadful manner, and three children crying about 
_ them ; this fight fo much affefied her compaffionate 
» mind, that the went the next day, and bought the three 
) children, that they might not be ruined by living with 
fuck wicked parents; they now live with Miranda, are 
bleffed with her care and prayers, and all the good works 
which fhe can do forthem. They hear her talk, they 
fee her live, they join with her in pfalms and prayers. 
\ The eldeft of them has already converted his parents 
' from their wicked life, and fhews a turn of mind fo re- 
» markably pious, that Miranda intends him for holy or- 
_ ders ; that being thus faved himfelf, he may be zealous 
in the falvation of fouls, and do to other miferable ob- 
ets, as fhe has done to him. 
Miranda is a conftant relief to poor people in their 


St eee ee 
98 A SERIOUS CALL TO A nik * 


misfortunes and accidents ; there are fometimes little 
misfortunes that happen to them, which of themfelves 
they could never be able to overcome. The death of a— 
cow, ora horfe, or fome little robbery, would keep them — 
in diftrefs all their lives. She does not fuffer them to 
grieve under fuch accidents as thefe. She immediately 
gives them the full value of their lofs, and makes ufe of 
it as a means of raifing their minds towards God. 

She has a great tendernefs for old people that are 
grown paft their labour. The parifh allowance to fuch 
people, is very feldom a comfortable maintenance. For 
this reafon, they are the conftant objeéts of her care ; 
fhe adds fo much to their allowance, as fomewhat ex- 
ceeds the wages they got when they were young. This 
fhe does to comfort the infirmities of their age, that 
being free from trouble and diftrefs they may ferve God 
in peace and tranquillity of mind. She has generally a 
large number of this kind, who by her charities and ex- 
hortations to holinefs, fpend their laft days in great 
piety and devotion. ¢ 

Miranda never wants compaffion, even to common 
beggars ; efpecially towards thofe that are old or fick, © 
er full of fores, that want eyes or limbs. She hears 
their complaints with tendernefs, gives them fome proof 
of her kindnefs, and never rejeéts them with hard, or re+ 
proachful language, for fear of adding affliétion to her 
fellow-creatures. 

If a poor traveller tells her, that he has neither | 
flrength, nor food, nor money left, fhe never bids him 
go to the place from whence he came, or tells him, that 
fhe cannot relieve him, becaufe he may bea cheat, or 
~ fhe does not know him ; but fhe relieves him for that 
reafon, becaufe he is a ftranger, and unknown to hers 
For it is the moft noble part of charity, to be kind and 
tender to thofe whom we never faw before, and per- 
haps never may fee again in this life. J was a flranger 
and ye took me in, faith our blefled Saviour ; but who 
can perform this duty, that will not relieve ns th 
are unknown to him ? 1. 7 Sa nets 

Miranda confiders, that Lazarus a was common be 
gar, that he was the care of angels, and carri 
Abraham’s bofom. She confiders, that our ble! 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. -99 
ba and his apoftles, were kind to beggars ; that they 
fpoke comfortably to them, healed their difeafes, and 

reftored eyes and limbs to the lame and blind. That 
Peter faid to the beggar that wanted an alms from him, 
Silver and gold have I none, but fuch as Ihave give F thee; 
in the name of Jefus Chrift of Nazareth, rife up and walk. 
Miranda, therefore, never treats beggars with difregard 
and averfion, but the imitates the kindnefs of our Saviour 
and his apoftles towards them ; and though fhe cannot, 
like them, work miracles for their relief, yet fhe relieves 
them with that power that fhe hath; and may fay with 
the apoftle, Such as I have give I thee, in the name of Jefus 
Chrift. 
_ It may be, fays Miranda, that I may often give to 
~ thofe that do not deferve it, or that will make an ill afe 
of my alms. But what then? Is not this the very 
method of divine goodnefs ? Does not God make his fun 
to rife on the evil, and on the good? Is not this the very 
goodnefs that is recommended to us in {cripture, that by 
imitating of it, we may be children of our Father which 
is in heaven, who fendeth rain onthe jut, and on the unjuft ? 
And fhall I withhold a little money or food, from my 
fellow creature, for fear he fhould not be good enough 
to receive it of me? Do I beg of God to deal with me, 
not according to my merit, but according to his own 

_ great goodnefs; and fhall I be fo abfurd, as to with- 

hold my charity from a poor brother, becaufe he may 

_ perhaps not deferve it ? Shall I ufe a meafure towards 

him, which I pray God never to ufe towards me ! 

Befides, where has the f{cripture made merit the rule 

_ or meafure of charity ? On the contrary, the f{cripture 

M faith, Jf thy enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirft, give him 

drink. 

_ .» Now this plainly teaches us, that the merits of perfons 
is to be no rule of our charity, but that we are to do atts 
of kindnefs to thofe that leaft of all deferve it. For if I 

_ am to love and to do good to my worft enemies ; if I 

am to be charitable to them, notwithftanding all their 

Spite and malice, furely merit is no meafure of charity. 
polf T am not to withhold my charity from fuch bad peo- 

_ Pie, and who are at the fame time enemies, furely I am 

oe ye 


to receive, we ought to look upon thofe that afk our alms, 


100 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither know 
to be bad people, nor any way my enemies. 
You will perhaps fay, that by this means I encourage 
people to be beggars. But the fame thoughtlefs objec-. 
tion may be made againft all kinds of charities, for they” 
may encourage people to depend upon them. The fame 
may be faid againft forgiving our enemies, for it may 
encourage people to do us hurt. The fame may be faid 
even againit the goodnefs of God, that by pouring his 
bleffing on the evil and on the good, on the juft, and on 
the unjuft, evil and unjuft men are encouraged in their 
wicked ways. ‘The fame may be faid againft clothing 
the naked, or giving medicines to the fick, for that may 
encourage people to negle& themfelves, and be carelefs 
of their health. But when the love of God dwelleth in 
you; when it has enlarged your heart, and filled you” 
with bowels of mercy and compaffion, you will make no 
more fuch objeétions as thefe. J 
“When you are at any time turning away the poor, the 
eld, the fick and helplefs traveller, the lame or the blind, 
afk yourfelf this queftion; Do I fincerely with thefe 
poor creatures may be as happy as Lazarus, that was 
carried by angels into Abraham’s bofom? Do I fincerely 
defire that God would make them fellow-heirs with me 
in eternal glory ? Now if you fearch into your foul, you: 
will find that there is none of thefe motions there, that 
you are wifhing nothing of this. For itis impoffible for 
any one heartily to wifh a poor creature fo great a hap- 
pinefs, and yet not have a heart to give him a {mall alms. 
For this reafon, fays Miranda, as far as I can, I give to 
all, becaufe I pray to God to forgive all; and I cannot 
vefufe an alms to thofe, whom I pray God to blefs, 
whom I with to be partakers of eternal glory ; but am 
glad to fhew fome degree of love to fuch, as, I hope, 
will be the objects of the infinite love of God. And if, 
as our Saviour has aflured us, it be more bleffed to give than 


as fo many friends and benefa@tors, that come to do us 
a greater good than they can receive, that come to exalt 
our virtue, to be witneffes of our charity, to be 
ments of our love, to be our advocates with Ge 


to us in Chrift’s ftead, to appear for us” at th 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 101 


judgment, and to help us to a bleffednefs greater than 
our alms can beftow on them. . 

This is the fpirit, and this is the life of the devout 
Miranda ; and if the lives ten years longer, fhe will have 
fpent fixty hundred pounds in charity, for that which fhe 
allows herfelf, may fairly be reckoned amongft her alms. 

When fhe dies fhe muft fhine amongft apoftles, and 
faints, and martyrs, fhe muft ftand amongift the firft 
fervants of God, and be glorious amongft thofe that 
have fought the good fight, and finifhed their courfe 
with joy. 


—_ > 


CHAP. IX. 


Containing fome reflections on the life of Miranda, and 
Soewing how it may, and ought to be imitated by all her 


Sexe 
NOW this life of Miranda, which I heartily 


recommend to the imitation of her fex, however con- 
trary it may feem to the way and fafhion of the world, 
is yet fuitable to the true fpirit, and founded upon the 
plaineft doétrines of Chriftianity. 

To live as fhe does, is as truly fuitable to the gofpel 
of Chrift, as to be baptized or receive the facrament. 

Her fpirit is that, which animated the faints of former 
ages ; and it is becaufe they lived as fhe does, that we 
now celebrate their memories, and praife God for their 
examples. 

There is nothing that is whimfical, trifling, or unrea- 
fonable in her chara¢ter ; but every thing there is de- 
feribed, in a right and proper inftance of a folid and real 

iety. eign 
‘ It is as eafy to fhew, that it is whimfical to go to 
church, or to fay one’s prayers, as that it is whimfical 
to obferve any of thefe rules of life. ' For all Miranda’s 
rules of living unto God, of {pending her time and for- 
_ tune, of eating, working, dreffing and converfing, are 
_as fubftantial parts of a reafonable and holy life, as devo- 


* 


tion and prayer. 


s ns oe 
" af 
a : i 


Loa A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


For there is nothing to be faid for the wifdom of fo. fos 
briety, the wifdom of devotion, the wifdom of charity, 
or the wifdom of humility, but what is as good an argu- k 
ment for the wife and reafonable ufe ae ag 

Neither can any thing be faid payin of lux. 
ury, the folly of fenfuality, py cath gion 
the folly of prodigality, the folly of ambition, of i ‘Of idlenels 
or indulgence, but what muft be faid againit the folly 
of drefs. For religion is as deeply concerned in the ant 
as in the other. 

If you may be vain in one thing, you may be vain in 
every thing ; for one kind of vanity only. differs from 
another, as one kind of intemperance differs from another. 

If you {pend your fortune in the needlefs vain finery 
of drefs, you cannot condemn prodigality, or extrava- 


gance, or luxury, without petra Re 
If you fancy that it is your only and that there- 


tion ; yet the cafe is not as it appears, for cove ‘ 
or ambition cannot fubfit in a heart that is in other res 
fpe&s rightly devoted to Ge . 

Ia like manner, though fome people ma Rae 
that they have in fm os expenfiye crane of drefs,, 
and yet feem to be in every other refpect 
yet it is certainly falfe ; for it isas impolible for “ar ey 
that is in a true ftate of religion, to be vain in the ufeof 
clothes, as to be vain iv the ule of alms, or aoe 
Now to convince you of this from your a Wi. 
let us fuppofe that fome emment faint, as indian, 
that the ea. Virgin Mary was fent into the world, 
be again in a Rate of trial for a few years, ps psa 
was going to her, to be edified by her great piety ; 
you expe to find her dreffed out and 
and expseive clothes? No: you would know i 
own mind, that it.was as impofible, as to payer earn- 
‘ing to dance. Do but add faint, or holy to any pe 
either man or woman, and’ your owa mind te 
mediately, that fuch 2 charaGter cannot 


fi 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 108 


nity of fine apparel. A faint genteclly drefled, is as great 

onfenfe, as an apoftle in an embroidered fuit ; every 
one’s own natural fenfe convinces him of the inconfiftency 
of thefe things, 

Now what is the reafon, that when you think ofa 
faint or eminent fervant of God, you cannot admit of the 
vanity of apparel ? Is it not becaufe it is inconfiftent 
with fuch a right ftate of heart, fuch true and exalted 
piety ? And is not this therefore a demonftration, that 
where fuch vanity is admitted, there a right flate of 
heart, true and exalted piety muft needs be wanted ? For 
as certainly as the holy Virgin Mary could not indulge 
herfelf, or conform to the vanity of the world in drefs 
and figure ; fo certain is it, that none can indulge them- 
felves in this vanity, but thofe who want her piety of 
heart ; and confequently it muft be owned, that all 

_needlefs and expenfive finery of drefs, is the effe& of a 
difordered heart, that is not governed by the true fpirit 
of religion, 

Covetoufnefs is not acrime, becaufe there is any harm 
in gold or filver, but becaufe it fuppofes a foolifh and un-, 
rf wrk ftate of mind, that is fallen from its true good, 
and funk into fuch a poor and wretched fatisfaétion. 

In like manner, the expenfive finery of drefs, is not a 
crime, becaufe there is any thing good or evil in clothes, 
but becaufe the expenfive ornaments of clothing fhews 
a foolifh and unreafonable ftate of heart, that is fallen 
from right notions of human nature, that abufes the end 
of clothing, and turns the neceffities of life into fo 
many inftances of pride and folly. 

__ All the world agree in condemning remarkable fops. 
Now what is the reafon of it ? Is it becaufe there is any 
thing finful in their particular drefs, or affefted man- 
ners? No: but it is becaufe all people know, that it 
fhews the ftate of a man’s mind, and that it is impoffible 
for fo ridiculous an outfide to have any thing wifé or 
reafonable, or good within. And indeed to fuppofe afop 
of great piety, is as much nonfenfe, as to fuppofe a cow- 
of great courage. So that all the world agree in 
wning, that the ufe and manner of clothes is a mark of 
e flate of a man’s mind, and confequently that it is a 
highly effential to religion. But then it fhould 


104 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ‘ 


be well confidered, that as it is only the fot that is guilty — 
of intemperance, but every one that tranfgreffes the — 
right and religious meafures of eating and drinking ; fo 
it fhould be confidered, that it is not only the fop that 
is guilty of the vanity and abufe of drefs, but every one ~ 
that departs from the reafonable and religious ends of — 
clothing. ; ie, | 
As therefore every argument againft fottifhnefs, is as 
good an argument againit all kinds of intemperance ; 
every argument againft the vanity of fops, is as good an 
argument againft all vanity and abufe of drefs. For they 
are all of the fame kind, and only differ, as one degree of 
intemperance may differ from another. She that only 
paints a little, may as juftly accufe another, becaufe fhe 
paints a great deal ; as fhe that ufes but a common 
finery of drefs, accufes another that is exceflive inher — 
finery. ’ a, 
For as in the matter of temperance, there is no rule 
but the fobriety, that is according to the doétrines and — 
fpirit of our religion ; fo in the matter of apparel, there — 
is no rule to be obferved, but fuch a right ufe of clothes, — 
as is ftrily according to the doftrines and fpirit of our — 
religion. ‘To pretend to make the way of the world our — 
meafure in thefe things, is as weak and abfurd, as to 
make the way of the world the meafure of our fobriety, — 
abftinence, or humility. It is a pretence that is exceed- 
ingly abfurd in the mouths of Chriftians, who are to be 
fo far from conforming to the fafhions of this life, that 
to have overcome the world, is made an effential mark of | 
Chriftianity. a 
This therefore is the way that you are to judge of the 
crime of vain apparel: you are to confider it as an of- 
fence againft the proper ufe of clothes, as covetoufnefs is 
an offence againft the proper ufe of money ; you are to” 
confider it as an indulgence of proud and unreafonable - 
tempers, as an offence againft the humility and fobriety — 
of the Chriftian fpirit ; you are to confider it as an of. 
fence againft all thofe do&trines that require you to do 
all to the glory of God, that require you to make a ; 
ufe of your talents ; you are to confider it as an efie 
againft all thofe texts of fcripture, that command 
_to love your aeighbour as yourfelf, to feed the: fi 


. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 105 


to clothe the naked, and do all works of charity that you ° 


are able: fo that you muft not deceive yourfelf with 
faying, where can be the harm of clothes ? for the corel 
ous man might as well fay, where can be the harmo 
gold or filver ? but you muft confider, that it is a great 
deal of harm to want that wife, and reafonable, and 
humble {tate of heart, which is according to the {pirit 
of religion, and which no one can have in the manner 
that he ought to have it, who indulges himfelf either in 
the vanity of drefs, or the defire of riches. 

There is therefore nothing right in the ufe of clothes, 
or in the ufe of any thing elfe in the world, but the plain- 
nefs and fimplicity of the gofpel. Every other ufe of 
things (however polite and fafhionable in the world) 


diftraéts and diforders the heart, and is inconfiftent with,, 
that inward flate of piety, that purity of heart, that wif- 
_ dom of mind, and regularity of affe€tion, which Chrift- 


janity requireth. 

If you would be a good Chriftian, there is but one 
way, you mutt live wholly unto God, you mutt live ac- 
cording to the wifdom that comes from God ; you mutt 
act according to the right judgments of the nature alid 
value of things ; you mutt live in the exercife of holy 
and heavenly affections, and ufe all the gifts of God to 


his praife and glory. 


Some perfons perhaps, who admire the purity and 
perfection of this life of Miranda, may fay, how can it 
be propofed as a common example ? How can we who 

~ are married, or we who are under the direction of our 
parents, imitate fuch a life. 

It is anfwered, juft as you may imitate the life of our 
bleffed Saviour and his apoftles. The circumftances of 
‘our Saviour’s life, and the ftate and condition of his 
‘apoitles, was more different from yours than that of 


_ Miranda’s is ; and yet their life, the purity and perfec- 


tion of their behaviour, is the common example that is - 


_propofed to all Chriftians. 

It is their fpirit therefore, their piety, their love of 
God, that you are to imitate, and not the particular form 
_ of their life. 

» 4 under God as they did, dire& your common ac- 
tions to that end which they did, glorify your proper 


eh: 
See 


106 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 


ftate with fuch love of God, fuch charity to your neigh- 
bour, fuch humility and felf-denial, as they did; and 
then, though you are only teaching your own children, 
and St. Paul is converting whole nations, yet you are 
following his fteps, and aéting after his example. 

Do not think therefore, that you cannot or need not 
be like Miranda, becaufe you are not in her ftate of life ; 
for as the fame fpirit and temper would have made Mi- 
randa a faint, though fhe had been forced to labour for 
a maintenance, fo if you will but afpire after her fpirit 
and temper, every form and condition of life will furnith 
you with fufficient means of employing it. yest 

Miranda is what fhe is, becaufe fhe does every thing 
in the name, and with regard to ker duty to God; and 
when you do the fame, you will be exatly like her, 
though you are never fo different from her in the out- 
ward ftate of your life. - 

You are married, you fay ; therefore you have not 
your time and fortune in your power as fhe has. 

It is very true; and therefore you cannot fpend fo 
much time, nor fo much money, in the manner that fhe 
does. i 

But now Miranda’s perfection does not confift in this, 
that fhe {pends fo much time, or fo much money in fuch 
a manner, but that fhe is careful to make the beft ufe of 
all that time, and all that fortune, which God has put 
into her hands. Do you therefore make the beft ufe of 
all that time and money which is in your difpofal, and 
then you are like Miranda. 

If fhe has two hundred pounds a year, and you have 
only two mites, have you not the more reafon to be ex- 
ceeding exact in the wifeft ufe of it ? If fhe has a deal ~ 
of time, and you have but a little, ought you not tobe the ~ 
more watchful and circumf{pect, left that little fhould be — 
loft ? Legal 

You fay if you was to imitate the cleanly plainnefs — 
and cheapnefs of her drefs, you fhould offend your huf- 
bands. : po a 


‘ 


Firft, Be very fure that this is true, before you make ~ 
it an excufe. =a 

Secondly, If your hufbands do really require y a 
patch your faces, to expofe your breafts naked, and & 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 107 


fine and expenfive in all your apparel, then take thefe 
two refolutions : ; 

Firft, to forbear from all this, as foon as your huf- 
bands will permit you. 

Secondly, to ufe your utmoft endeavours to recom- 
mend yourfelves to their affeétions by fuch folid virtues, 
as may correé the vanity of their minds, and teach them 
to love you for fuch qualities, as will make you amiable 
in the fight of God and his holy angels. 

As to this do@rine concerning the plainnefs and mod- 
efty of drefs, it may perhaps be thought by fome to be 
fufficiently confuted by afking, whether all perfons are 
to be clothed in the fame manner ? 

Thefe queftions are generally put by thofe, who had 
rather perplex the plaineft truths, than be obliged to fol- 

low them. 

Let it be fuppofed, that I had recommended an uni- 
verfal plainnefs of diet. Is it not a thing fufficiently 
reafonable to be univerfally recommended ? But would 
it thence follow, that the nobleman and the labourer 
were to live upon the fame food ? 

_ Suppofe I had preffed an univerfal temperance, does 
mot religion enough juftify fuch a doétrine? But would 
it therefore follow, that all people were to drink the 
fame liquors, and in the fame quantity ? 

In like manner, though plainnefs and fobriety of drefs 
is recommended to all, yet it does by no means follow, 
that all are to be clothed in the fame manner. 

Now what is the particular rule with regard to tem- 
‘perance ? How fhall particular perfons, that ufe differ- 
ent liquors, and in different quantities, preferve their 
temperance ? 

Is not this the rule 2, Are they not to guard againft 
indulgence, to make their ufe of liquors a matter of con- 
feience, and allow of no refrefhments, but fuch as are 

confiftent with the ftriGeft rules of Chriftian fobriety ? 

Now transfer this rule to the matter of apparel, and 
all queftions about it are anfwered. 

Let every one but guard againft the vanity of drefs, 

_ let them but make their ufe of clothes a matter of con- 

Acience, let them but: defire to make the beft ufe of their | 
“Money, and then every one has a rule that is fufficient 

ie K . 


<. ! 


108 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


to direét them in every ftate of life. This rule will no 
more let the great be vain in their drefs, than intempe- 
rate in their liquors ; and yet will leave it as lawful to 
have fome difference in their drink. 

But now will you fay, that you may ufe the fineft 
richeft wines, when and as you pleafe, that you may be 
as expenfive in them as you have a mind, becaufe differ- 
ent liquors are allowed ? If not, how can it be faid, that 
you may ule clothes as you pleafe, and wear the richeft 
things you can get, becaufe the bare difference of clothes 
is lawful ? 

For as the lawfulnefs of different liquors leaves no 
room, nor any excufe, for the fmalleft degree of intem- 
perance in drinking ; fo the lawfulnefs of different ap- 
parel leaves no room, nor any excufe, for the fmalleft 
degrees of vanity, in drefs. 

To afk what is vanity in drefs, is no more a puzzling 
queftion, than to afk, what is intemperance in drinking. 
And though religion does not here ftate the particular 
meafure for all individuals, yet it gives fuch general rules 
as are a fufficient direCtion in every ftate of life. 

He that lets religion teach him, that the end of -drink- 

_ ing is only fo far to refrefh our fpirits, as to keep us in 
good health, and make foul and body fitter for all the 
offices of a holy and pious life, and that he is to defire 
to glorify God by a right ufe of this liberty, will always 
know what intemperance is, in his particular ftate. 

So he that lets religion teach him, that the end of 
clothing is only to hide our fhame and nakednefs, and — 
to fecure our bodies from the injuries of weather, and — 
that he is to defire to glorify God by a fober and wife © 
ufe of this neceffity, will always know what vanity of — 
drefs is, in his particular flate. 7, 

And he that thinks it a needlefs nicety, to talk of the © 
religious ufe of apparel, has as much reafor to think it a ~ 
needlefs nicety, to talk of the religious ufe of liquors. — 
For luxury and indulgence in drefs, is as great an abufe, © 
as luxury and indulgence in eating and drinking. And 
there is no avoiding either of them, but by making re- 
ligion the ftri& meafure of our allowance in both cafes. 
And there is nothing in religion to excite a ma 


7 


; 
“] 

c 

. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 109 


pious exaétnefs in one cafe, but what is as good a motive 
to the fame exatnefs in the other. 

Farther, as all things that are lawful, are not therefore 
expedient ; fo there are fome things lawful in the ufe of 
liquors and apparel, which by abftaining from them for 
pious ends, may be made means of great perfection. 

Thus for inftance, if a man fhould deny himfelf fuch 
ufe of liquors as is lawful ; if he fhould refrain from fuch 
expenfe in his drink as might be allowed without fin ; if 
he fhould do this, not only for the fake of a more pious 
felf-denial, but that he might be able to relieve and re- 
frefh the helplefs, poor, and fick. 

If another fhould abftain from the ufe of that which is 
lawful in drefs ; if he fhould be more frugal and mean 
in his habit, than the neceffities of religion abfolutely re- 
quire ; if he fhould do this not only as a means of a bet- 
ter humility, but that he may be more able to clothe 
other people ; thefe perfons might be faid to do that 
which was highly fuitable to the true f{pirit, though not 
abfolutely required by the letter of the law of Chrift. 

For-if thofe who give a cup of cold water to a difciple 
of Chrift, fhall not lofe their reward, how dear muft they 
be to Chrift, who often give themfelves water, that they 
may be able to give wine to the fick and languifhing 
members of Chrift’s body ! 

But to return. All that has been here faid to married 
women, may ferve for the fame in{truétion to fuch as are 
ftill under the dire¢tion of their parents. eit 

Now though the obedience which is due to parents 
does not oblige them to carry their virtues any higher 
than their parents require them ; yet their obedience re- 
quires them to fubmit to their direétion in all things not 
contrary to the laws of God. 

If therefore, your parents require you to live more in 


% 


- the fafhion and converfation of the world, or to be more 


expenfive in your drefs and perfon, or to difpofe of your 
time otherwife than fuits with your defires after greater 
perfeétion, you muft fubmit, and*bear it as your crofs, 
till you are at liberty to follow ‘the higher counfels of 


_ Chrift, and have it in your power to choofe the beft ways 
of raifing your virtue to its greateft height. 
Now although whilft you are in this ftate, you may be 


110 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


obliged to forego fome means of improving your virtue, 
yet there are fome others to be found in it, that are not 
to be had in a life of more liberty. 

For if in this ftate, where obedience is fo great a vir- 

tue, you comply in all things lawful, out of a pious, ten- 
der fenfe of duty ; then thofe things which you thus per- 
form, are, inftead of being hindrances of your virtue, 
turned into means of improving it. 
_ What you lofe by being reftrained from fuch things, 
as you would choofe to obferve, you gain by that excel- 
leit virtue of obedience, in humbly complying againft 
your temper. 4 

Now what is here granted, is only in things lawful ; 
and therefore the diverfion of our Englifh ftage is here 
excepted ; being elfewhere proved, as I ‘think, to be 
abfolutely unlawful. s 

Thus much to fhew, how perfons under the direc- 
tion of others, may imitate the wife and pious life of 
Miranda. “ 

But as for thofe who are altogether in their own hands, 
if the liberty of their ftates makes them covet the beft 
gifts, if it carries them to choofe the moft excellent ways, 
if they," having all in their own power, fhould turn 
the whole form of their life into a regular exercife of 
the higheft virtues, happy are they who haye fo learned - 
Chrit! 

All perfons cannot receive this faying. They tha 
are ready to receive it, let them receive it, and blefs that 
Spirit of God which has put fuch good motions into 
their hearts. +s ea 

God may be ferved and glorified in every ftate of life, 
But as there are fome ftates of life more defirable than 
others, that more purify our natures, that more improve 

our virtues, and dedicate us unto God in a higher man- 
ner ; fo thofe, who are at liberty to choofe for themfelves, 
feem to be called by God to be more eminently devoted 
to his fervice. ere. 

Ever fince the beginning of Chriftianity, there has” 
been two orders or ranks of people amongft good Chrift. 
jans. 

The one that feared and ferved God in the ¢ 
offices of a fecular worldly life. ah 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1}4 


. The other renouncing the common bufinefs and com- 
mon enjoyments of life, as riches, marriage, honours, 
and pleafures, devoted themfelves to voluntary poverty, 
virginity, devotion, and retirement, that by this means 
they might live wholly unto God in the daily exercife of 
a divine and heavenly life. 

This teftimony I have from the famous ecclefiaftical 
hiftorian, Eufebius, who lived at the time of the firit gen- 
eral council, when the faith of our Nicene creed was 
eftablifhed, when the church was in its greateft glory 
and purity, when its bifhops were fo many holy fathers 
and eminent faints. 

* Therefore, faith he, there hath been inftituted in 
the church of Chrift, two ways, or manners of living. 
The one raifed above the ordinary ftate of nature, and 
common ways of living, reje&ts wedlock, poffleffions, 
and worldly goods, and being wholly feparate and re- 
moved from the ordinary converfation of common life, 
is appropriated and devoted folely to the worfhip and 

- fervice of God, through an exceeding degree of heavenly 
love. 

** They who are of this order of people, feem dead to 
the life of this world, and having their bodies only upon 
earth, are in their minds and contemplations dwelling in 
heaven. From whence, like many heavenly inhabitants, 
they look down upon human life, making interceffions 
and oblations to Almighty God for the whole race of 
mankind. And this not with the blood of beatts, or the 
fat, or {moke, and burning of bodies, but with the high- 
eft exercifes of true piety, with cleanfed and purified 
hearts, and with an whole form of life ftriGly devoted 
to virtue. Thefe are their facrifices, which they contin- 
ally offering unto God, implore his mercy and favour for 
themfelves, and their fellow-creatures. 
ses Chriftianity receives this as the perfe€t manner of 

e. 

“The other is of a lower form, and fuiting itfelf more 
_ to the condition of human nature, admits of chafte wed- 
lock, and care of children and family, of trade and bufi- 
__ nefs, and goes through all the employments of life under 
a fenfe of piety, and fear of God. 

__ * Now they who have chofen this manner of life, have 
4 K 2 


ae 
~8 


ie 


particular days are fet apart for their hearing and learn- 
ing the word of God. And this order of people are 
confidered, as in the fecond ftate of piety.”  Zufed. 
Dem, Evan. 1. 1c. 8. revtal 


Thus this learned hiftorian. shales 
If therefore perfons of either fex, moved with the life _ 
of Miranda, and defirous of perfeétion, fhould unite — 


‘ 
- 
bs 


themfelves into little focieties, profefling voluntary pov- ; 
upon ~ 


“erty, virginity, retirement and devotion, living 
bare neceffaries, that fome might be relieved by their 
charities, and all be bleffed with their prayers, and bene+ 
fited by their example : or if for want of this, they fhould 
practife the fame manner of life, in as high a degree as 
they could by themfelves ; fuch perfons would be fo far 
from being chargeable with any fuperitition, or blind de+ 
votion, that they might be juftly faid to reftore that pi+ 
ety, which was the boaft and glory of the church, when 
its greateft faints were alive. i ae 
Now as this learned hiftorian obferves, that it was an 
exceeding great degree of heavevly love, that carried 
thefe perfons fo much above the common ways of Tife, — 
to fuch an eminent ftate of holinefs ; fo it is not to be 
wondered at, that the religion of Jefus’ Chnitt fhould — 
fill the hearts of many Chriftians with this high degree — 
of love. ib! 
For a religion that opens fuch a feene of glory, that 
difcovers things fo infinitely above all the world, that 
fo triumphs over death, that affures us of fuch manfions — 
of blifs, where we fhall fo foon be as the angels of God | 
in heaven ; what wonder is it, if fuch'a religion, fuch 
truths and exp2@tations, fhould in fome holy fouls, / 
ftroy all earthly defires, and make the ardent 
heavenly things, be the one continual paffion of their 
hearts ? cn 
If the religion of Chriftians is founded upon 
finite humiliation, the cruel mockings and fee 
the prodigious fufferings, the poor, perfecuted 
pai: ful death of a crucified Son of God ; what won 
is it, if many humble adorers of this profound my# 
many affectionate lovers of a crucified Lord, tho 
rounce their fhare of worldly pleafures, and give 


112 A SERIOUS CALL TO & 
their fet times for retirement and fpiritual exercifes, and d 


| 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 118 


felves up to a continual courfe of mortification, and felf- 
denial: that thus fuffering with Chriit here, they may 
reign with him hereafter ? 

| If truth itfelf hath affured us, that there is but one thing 
needful, what wonder is it, that there fhould be fome 
amongift Chriftians fo full of faith, as to believe this in 
the higheft fenfe of the words, and to defire fuch a fepa- 
ration from the world, that their care and attention to 
the one thing needful may not be interrupted ? 

If our bleffed Lord hath faid, Lf thou wilt be perfed, 

go and fell that thou haft, and give to the poor, and thou 
Shalt have treafure in heaven: and come and follow me : 
what wonder is it, that there fhould be amongft Chrift- 
jans, fome fuch zealous followers of Chrift, fo intent 
upon heavenly treafure, fo~defirous of perfeGtion, that 
they fhould renounce the enjoyment of their eftates, 
choofe a voluntary poverty, and relieve all the poor that 
they are able ? 

If the chofen veffel, St. Paul, hath faid, We that is un- 
married careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how 
be may pleafe the Lord ; and that there is this difference alfo 
between a wife and a virgin 3 the unmarried woman 

_ eareth for the things of the Lord, that foe may be holy both 
in body and fpirit : what wonder is it, if the purity and 
perfection of the virgin ftate, hath been the praife and 
glory of the church in its firft and pureft ages ? 

That there hath always been fome fo defirous of 
| pleafing God, fo zealous after every degree of punty 
_ and perfeétion, fo glad of every means of improving 
_ their virtue, that they have renounced the comforts and 
_ enjoyments of wedlock, to trim their lamps, to purify 
their fouls, and wait upon God ina ftate of perpetual 
| virginity ? rq 

|. And if now in thefe our days, we want examples of 
_ thefe feveral degrees of perfection ; -if neither clergy nor 
laity are enough of this fpirit ; if;weare fo far departed 
| from it, that a man feems, like ‘St.Paul at Athens, a 
_ fetter forth of ftrange doétrines, when he recommends 
_ felf-denial, renunciation of the world; regular devotion, 
‘retirement, virginity, and voluntary poverty, ’tis becaufe 
we are fallen into an age, where the love: not only. of 
many, but of moft, is waxed cold. : 


—.- 


114 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


I have made this little appeal to eae and baer : 
thefe few paflages of {cripture, to fu ms: |. 
mon practices in the life of Miranda ; thy to yer that i 
her higheft rules of holy living, her devotion, felf-denial, 
renunciation of the world, her charity, virginity, and 
voluntary poverty, are founded in the fublimeft counfels 
of Chrift and his apoftles, fuitable to the high expeéta- 
tions of another life, proper inftances of a heavenly love, 
and all followed by the greateft faints of the beft and 
pureft ages of the church. 

He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. 


—— 


CHAP. X. 


Sheawing how all orders and ranks of men and women of all 
ages, are obliged to devote themfelves unto God. ss 


I HAVE in the foregoing chapters gone through” 
the feveral great inflances of Chriftian devotion, and 
fhewn that all the parts of our common life, our em 
ployments, our talents and gifts of fortune, are all to be. 
made holy and acceptable unto God, by a wife and: 
ligious ufe of every thing, and by directing our adtiougs 
and defigns to fuch ends as are fuitable to the honour 
and glory of God. ia 

I fhall now thew, that this regularity ‘of devotivi, this 
holinefs of common life, this religious ufe of every 
“ that we have, is a devotion that is the mits of all. 
of Chriftian. people. w 

Fulvius has had a learned education, and sadn hie 
degrees in'the Univerfity, he came from thence, that he | 
might be free from any rules of life. He takes no em-— 
ployment upon him, nor enters into any bufinefs, be- — 
caufe he thinks that every employment or bufinefs, calls 
people to the careful performance and difcharge of 
feveral duties. When he is grave, he will tell you 
he did not enter into holy orders, becaufe he looks u 
it to be a ftate, that requires great holinefs Cae 
that it does not fuit his temper to be fo 
tell you that he never intends to marry, be 


cannot oblige himfelf to that regularity of lifey and 


DEVOUT. AND HOLY LIFE, 115 


good behaviour, which he takes to be the duty of thofe 

that are at the head of a family. He refufed to be god- 

father to his nephew, becaufe he will have no truft of 
any kind to anfwer for. 

Fulvius thinks that he is confcientious in this. condué, 
and is therefore content with the moft idle, impertinent 
and carelefs life. 

He has no religion, no devotion, no pretences to piety. 
He lives by no rules, and thinks all is very well, becaufe 
he is neither a prieft nor a father, nor a guardian, nor 
has any employment or family to look after. , 

But Fulvius, you are a rational creature, and as fuch, 
are as much obliged to live according to reafon and order 
as a prieft is obliged to attend at the altar, or a guardian 
to be faithful to his truft ; if you live contrary to reafon, 
you don’t commit a {mall crime, you don’t break a {mall 
truft ; but you break the law of your nature, you rebel 
againft God who gave you that nature, and put your- 
felf amongft thofe whom the God of reafon and order 
will punifh as apoftates and deferters. 
* Though you have no employment, yet as you are 

_ baptized into the profeffion of Chrift’s religion, you are 

‘ as much obliged to live according to the holinefs of the 

| Chriftian {pirit, and perform all the promifes made at 

_ your baptifm, as any man is obliged to be honeft and 

_ faithful in his calling. If you abufe this great calling, 

| you are not falfe in a {mall matter, but you abufe the 

| precious blood of Chrift ; you crucify the Son of God ~ 
| afrefh ; you negleé& the higheft inftances of divine good- 
| mefs ; you difgrace the church of God ; you blemifh the 
| body of Chrift ; you abufe the means of grace, and the 
| promifes of glory ; and it will be more tolerable for Tyre 
| and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you. 

It is therefore great folly, for any one to think him- 
| felf at liberty to live as he pleafes, becanfe he is not in 
| fuch a ftate of life as fome others are: for if there is 
| any thing dreadful in the abufe of any truft ; if there 
| is any thing to be feared for the negle& of any calling, 
there is nothing more to be feared than the wrong ufe of 
‘ our reafon, nor any thing more to be dreaded, than the 
meg of our Chriftian calling ; which is not to ferve 
It he little ufes of a fhort life, but to redeem fouls unto 
| 


i 


_ - - ae 


116 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


God, to fill heaven with faints, and finifh a kingdom of 
eternal glory unto God. 

No man therefore muft think himfelf excufed from 
the exaétnefs of piety and morality, becaufe he has 
chofen to be idle and independent in the world ; for the 
neceffities of a reafonable and holy life, are not founded 
in the feveral conditions and employments of this life, 
but in the immutable nature of God, and the nature of ~ 
' man. A man is not to be reafonable and holy, becaufe 
he is a prieft, or a father of a family ; but he is to be a 
pious prieft, and a good father, becaufe piety and good- 
nefs are the laws of human nature. Could any man 
pleafe God, without living according to reafon and order, _ 
there would be nothing difpleafing to God in an idle 
prieft, or a reprobate father. He therefore that abufes 
his reafon, is like him that abufes the priefthood ; and he — 
that negleés the holinefs of the Chriftian life, is as the — 
man that difregards the moft important truft. 

If a man was to choofe to put out his eyes, rather — 
than enjoy the light, and fee the works of God ; if he — 
fhould voluntarily kill himfelf, by refufing to eat and 
drink, every one would own, that fuch a one was arebel © 
againft God, that juftly deferved his higheft indignation. — 
You would not fay, that this was only finful ina prieft, — 
or a mafter of a family, but in every man as fuch. 

Now wherein does the finfulnefs of this behaviour 
confift ? Does it not confift in this, that he abufes his . 
nature, and refufes to aét that part for which God had — 
created him? But if this be true, then all perfons that _ 
abufe their reafon, that a& a different part from that — 
for which God created them, are like this man, rebels — 
againft God, and on the fame account fubje& to his 
wrath. 

Let us fuppofe, that this man, inftead of putting out 
his eyes, had only employed them in looking at ridicu 
lous things, or fhut them up in a fleep ; that naa 
ftarving himfelf to death, by not eating at all, he fho 
turn every meal into a feaft, and eat and drink li 
epicure ; could he be faid to have lived more te 
glory of God? could he any more be faid to 
part for which God had created him, than if he 
out his eyes, and ftarved himfelf to death? 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 117 


Now do but fuppofe a man acting unreafonably ; do 
but fuppofe him extinguifhing his reafon, inftead of put- 
ting out his eyes ; and living in a courfe of folly and im- 
pertinence, inftead of ftarving himfelf to death ; and then 
you have found out as great a rebel againft God. 

For he that puts out his eyes, or murders himfelf, 
has only this guilt, that he abufes the powers that God 
has given him ; that he refufes to a& that part for which 
he was created, and puts himfelf into a ftate that is con- 
trary to the divine will, And furely this is the guilt of 
every one that lives an unreafonable, unholy, and foolifh 
life. 

As therefore, no particular ftate, or private life, is an 
excufe for the abufe of our bodies, or felf-murder ; fo 
no particular ftate, or private life, is an excufe for the 
abufe of our reafon, or the negleé& of the holinefs of the 
Chriftian religion. For furely it is as much the will of 
God, that we fhould make the beft ufe_of our rational 
faculties, that we fhould conform to the purity and holi- 
nefs of Chriftianity, as it is the will of God, that we 
fhould ufe our eyes, and eat and drink for the preferva- 
tion of our lives. 

Till therefore a man can fhew, that he fincerely: en- 
deavours to live according to the will of God, to be that 
which God requires him to be ; till he can fhew, that he 
is {triving to live according to the holinefs of the Chrift- 
ian religion ; whofeever he be, or wherefoever he be, he 
has all that to anfwer for, that they have, who refufe to 
live,.who abufe the greateft trufts, and negleét the high- 


, eft calling in the world. 


Every body acknowledges, that all orders of men are 
to be equally and exaétly honeft and faithful ; there is no 
‘exception to be made in thefe duties, for any private or 
particular ftate of life. Now if we would but attend to 
the reafon and nature of things; if we would but con- 


fider the nature of God, and the nature of man, we 


fhould find the fame neceffity for every other right ufe 
of our reafon, for every grace, or religious temper of 
‘the Chriftian life : we fhould-find it as abfurd to fup- 
pofe, that one man mutt be exaét in piety, and another 
need not, as to fuppofe that one man muft be exaét in 
onefty, but another need not. For Chriftian humility, 


» us no charge or employment of life, th 


, 


118 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


fobriety, devotion, and piety, are as great and neéceflary 
parts of a reafonable life, as juftice and honefty. 

And on the other hand, pride, fenfuality and covetouf- 
nefs, are as great diforders of the foul, are as high an 
abufe of our reafon, and as contrary to God, as cheating 
and difhonefty. 4 } 

Theft and difhonefty feem indeed, to vulgar eyes, to 
be greater fins, becaufe they are fo hurtful to civil fo- 
ciety, and are fo feverely punifhed by human laws. 

But if we confider mankind in a higher view, as'God’s 
order or fociety of rational beings, that are to “glorify 
him by the right ufe of their reafon, and by ating con- 
formably to the order of their nature, we fhall find, 
that every temper that is equally contrary to reafon and 
order, that oppofes God’s ends and defigns, and difor- 
ders the beauty and glory of the rational world, is equally 
finful in man, and equally odious to God. This would 
fhew us, that the fin of fenfuality is like the fin of dif- 
honefty, and renders us as great objeéts of the divine dif- 
pleafure. 

Again, if we confider mankind in a farther view, as a 
redeemed order of fallen fpirits, that are baptized into — 
a fellowfhip with the Son of God ; to be temples of the — 
Holy Ghoft ; to live according to his holy infpirations ; 
to offer to God the reafonable facrifice of an humble, 
pious, and thankful life ; to purify themfelves from the — 
diforders of their fall; to make a rif#ht ufe of the means — 
of grace, in order to be fons of eternal glory ; if we look — 
at mankind in this true light, then we fhall find that all 
tempers that are contrary to this holy fociety, that are 
abufes of this infinite mercy ; all a€tions that make us un- — 
like to Chrift, that difgrace his body, that abufe the means ~ 
of grace, and oppofe our hopes of glory, have every thing © 
in them, that can make us for ever odious unto God. So_ 
that though pride and fenfuality, and other vices of the 
like kind, do not hurt civil fociety, as cheating and dif- 
honefty do, yet they hurt that fociety, and oppofe th 
ends, which are greater and more glorious in the oe f 
God, than all the focieties that relate to this world. — 

Nothing therefore can be more falfe, than to ima 
' that becaufe we are private perfons, oe 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. i1g 


may live more at large, indulge our appetites, and be 
lefs careful of the duties of piety and holinefs ; for it is 
as good an excufe for cheating and difhonefty. Becaufe 
he that abufes his reafon, that indulges himfelf in luft and 
fenfuality, and negleGts to a&t the wife and reafonable 
part of a true Chriftian, has every thing in his life to 
render him hateful to God, that is to be found in cheat- 
ing and difhonefty. 

If therefore you rather choofe to be an idle epicure, 
than to be unfaithful ; if you rather choofe to live in luft 
end fenfuality, than to injure your neighbour in his 
goods, you have made no better a provifion for the fa- 
your of God, than he that rather choofes to rob a houfe, 


- than to rob a church. 


For the abufing of our own nature, is as great a dif- 
obedience againft God, as the injuring our neighbour ; 
and he that wants piety towards God, has done as much 
to damn himfelf, as he that wants honefty towards men. 
Every argument therefore, that proves it neceflary for 
all men, in all ftations of life, to be truly honeft, proves 
it equally neceflary for all men, in all ftations of life, to 
be truly holy and pious, and do all things in fuch a man- 
ner, as is fuitable to the glory of God. 

_Again, another argument to prove that all orders of 
men are obliged to be thus holy and devout in the com- 
mon courfe of their lives, in the ufe of every thing that 
they enjoy, may be taken from our obligation to prayer. 
It is granted, that prayer is a duty that belongs to all 
ftates and conditions of men ; now if we inquire into 
the reafon of this, why no ftate of life is to be excufed 
from prayer, we-fhall find it as good a reafon, why every 
tate of life is to be made a ftate of piety and holinefs in 
all its parts. : a‘ 

/ For the reafon why we are to pray unto God, and 
praife him with hymns, and pfalms of thank{giving ! is 
this, becaufe weare to live wholly unto God, and glorify 
him all poffible ways. It is not becaufe the praifes of 
ords, or forms of thank{giving, are more particularly 
os ef piety, or more the worfhip of God than other 
hings ; but it is becaufe they are poffible ways of ex- 
refling our dependence, our obedience and devotion to 
Now if this be the reafon of verbal praifes and 

L 


120° A SERIOUS CALL TOA 


By 


k{givings to God, becaufe we are to live unto God 
al ple ways, then it plainly follows, that we are 


equally obliged to worfhip, and glorify God in all other 
actions, that can be turned into aéts of piety and obedi- 
ence to him. And as aétions are of much more fignifi- 
cancy than words, it muft be a much, more acceptable 
worfhip of God, to glorify him in all.the aGtions of our 
common life, than with any little form of words at any 
particular times. 

Thus, if God is to be worfhipped with forms of 
thank{giving, he that makes it a rule to be content and» 
thankful in every part and accident of his life, becaufe it 
comes from God, praifes God in a much higher manner, 
“than he that has fome fet time for finging of pfalms. He 
_ that dares not fay an ill-natured word, or do an unrea- 


~ fonable thing, becaufe he confiders God as every where 


_ ptefent, performs a better devotion than he that dares 
not mifs the church. To live in the world as a ftranger 
and a pilgrim, ufing all its enjoyments as if we ufed them’ 
not, making all our aétions fo many fteps towards a bet- 
ter life, is offering a better facrifice to God, thas any | 
forms of holy and heavenly prayers. | 
To be humble in all our aétions, to avoid every ap- — 
pearance of pride and vanity, to be meek and lowly in — 
our words, actions, drefs, behaviour and defigns, i in imi- — 
tation of our bleffed Saviour, is worfhipping God” in a 
higher manner, than they who have only times to fall — 
low on their knees in devotion. He that contents him- 
felf with neceffaries, that he may give the. remainder to 
thofe that want it; that dares not to {pend any money — 
foolifhly, becaufe in confiders it as a talent from God, — 
which muft be ufed according to his will, praifes God 
with fomething that is more glorious than fongs of praife. 
‘He that has appointed times for the ufe of wife and 
pious prayers, performs a proper inftance of devotion ;_ 
but he that allows himfelf no times, nor any places, nor — 
any aétions, but fuch as are ftriétly conformable to wil 
dom and. holinefs, worfhips the divine nature with tl i 
mott true and fubftantial devotion. For who does not ~ 
know, that it is better to be pure and holy, than to talc” 
about purity and holingfs? Nay, who does not 
that a man is to be reckoned no farther pure, or 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 


juft, than as he is pure, and holy, and juft in the com- 
mon courfe of his life ? But if this be plain, thengt is 
alfo plain, that it is better to be holy, than to have holy 
prayers. 

_ Prayers therefore are fo far from being a fufficient 
devotion, that they are the fmalleft parts of it. Weare 
to praife God with words and prayers, vLecaufe it is a 
poflible way of glorifying God, wpp has given us fuch 
faculties, as may be fouled. But then as words are but 
fmall things in themfelves, as times of prayer are but 
little, if compared with the reft of our lives ; fo that de- 
votion which confiits in times and forms of prayer, is 
but a very fmall thing, if compared to that devotion 
which is to appear in every other part and circumftance 
of our lives. 

Again ; as it is an eafy thing to worfhip God with 
forms of words, and to obferve times of offering them 
unto him, fo it is the fmalleft kind of piety. 

And on the other hand, as it is more difficult to wor- 
fhip God with our fubfance, to honour him with the 
right ufe of ovr time, to offer to him the continual facri- 
fice of felf-denial and mortification ; as it requires more 
piety to eat and drink only for fuch ends as may glorify 
God, to undertake no labour, nor allow of any diyer- 
fion, but where we can at in the name of God; as it 
is moft difficult to facrifice all our corrupt tempers, cor- 
re& all our paflions, and make piety to God the rule and 
meafure of all the ations of our common hfe; fo the 
devotion of this kind isa much more acceptable fervice 
sunto God, than thofe words of devotion which we offer 
to him either in the church or in our clofet. 

' Every fober reader will eafily perceive, that I don’t 
intend to leflen the true and great value of prayers, 
‘either public or private ; but only to fhew him, that 
‘they are certainly but a very flender part of devotion, 
when compared to a devout life. 

To fee this in a yet clearer light, let us fuppofe a per- 
fon to have appointed times for praifing God with 
- pfalms and hymns, and to be ftri& im the obfervation of 
them ; let it be fuppofed alfo, that in his common life 
_ he is reftlefs and uneafy, full of murmurings and com- 
Pplaicts at every thing, never pleafed but by chance, as 


J Y= ols oe 


_ 122 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


his temper happens to carry him, but murmuring and 
repining at the very feafons, and having fomething to 
diflike in every thing that happens to him. Now can 
you conceive any thing more abfurd and unreafonable, 
than fuch a charaéter as this ? Is fuch a one to be reck- 
oned thankful to God, becaufe he has forms of praife 
which he offers to him ? Nay, is it not certain, that 
fuch forms of praife muft be fo far from being an ac- 
eeptable devotion to God, that they muft be abhorredas 
an abomination ? Now the abfurdity which you fee in 
this inftance, is the fame in any other part of our life ; 
if our common life hath any contrariety to our prayers, 
it is the fame abomination, as fongs of thank{giving in 
the mouths of murmurers. 

Bended knees, whilft you are clothed with pride ; 
heavenly petitions, whilft you are hoarding up- treafures 
upon earth ; holy devotions, whilft you live in the fol- 
lies of the world ; prayers of meeknefs and charity, whilft 
your heart is the feat of {pite and refentment ; hours of 
prayer, whilft you give up days and years to idle diver- 
fions, impertinent vifits, and foolifh pleafures; are as 
abfurd, unacceptable fervice to God, as forms of thankf- 
giving from a perfon that lives in repinings and a 
tent. 

So that unlefs the common courfe of our lives be ac- 
cording to the common fpirit of our prayers, our pray= — 
ers are fo far from being a real or fufficient degree of de- 
votion, that they become an empty lip-labour, or, what — 
is worfe, a notorious hypocrify. y | 

Seeing therefore we are to make the fpirit and temper . 
of our prayers the common fpirit and temper of our — 
lives, this may ferve to convince us, that all orders of { 
people are to ‘labour and afpire after the fame utmoft 
perfeGtion of the Chriftian life. For as all Chriftians are 
to ufe the fame holy and heavenly devotions, as they are 
all with the fame earneftnefs to pray for the Spirit of — 
God ; fo is it a fufficient proof, that all orders of people — 
are, to the utmoft of their power, to make their Ife | 
agreeable to that one Spirit, for which they are all to” 
pray. ical bs he 

As certain therefore as the fame holinef of tg - 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 193 


requires the fame holinefs of life, fo certain is it, that all 
Chriftians are called to the fame holinefs of life. 

A foldier, or a tradefman, is not called to minifter at 
the altar, or preach the gofpel; but every foldier or 
tradefman is as much obliged to be devout, humble, holy, és 
and heavenly-minded in all the parts of his common life, 
as a clergyman is obliged to be zealous, faithful, and la- 
borious in all parts of his profeffion. 

And all this, for this one plain reafon, becaufe all 
people areto pray for the fame holinefs, wifdom, and 
divine tempers, and to make themfelves as fit as they 
can for the fame heaven. 

All men therefore, as men, have gine and the fame 
important bufinefs, to a& up to the exceilency of their 
rational nature, and to make reafon and order the law of 
all their defigns and ations. All Chriftians, as Chrift- 
ians, have one and the fame calling, to live according to 
the excellency of the Chrifian {pirit, and to make the 

- fublime precepts of the gofpel, the rule and meafure of 
all their tempers in c®mzon life. The one thing need- 
ful to one, is the one thing needful to all. 

The merchant is no lenger to hoard up treafures upon 
earth ; the foldier is no longer to fight for glory ; the 
great feholar is no longer to pride himfelf in the depths 
of icience ; but they muft all with one {pirit count all 

things but lofs, for ihe excellency of the knowledge of Chrift 
| i defus. : 

The fine lady muft teach her eyes to weep, and be 
clothed with humility. The polite gentleman mutt ex- 
change the gay thoughts of wit and fartcy, for a broken 
end a contrite heart. The man of quality mutt fo far 

_ fenounce the dignity of his birth, as to think himfelf 
miferable tili he is born again. Servants muft confider 
their fervice as done unto God. Matters muft confider 

‘their fervants as their brethren in Chrift, that are to be 
| treated as their fellow members of the myttical body of 
-Chrift. ‘ ; 

_ Young ladies muft either devote themfelves to piety, 
prayer, felf-denial, and all good works, in a virgin ftate 
| of life’; or elfe marry to be holy, fober, and prudent in 
‘the care of a family, bringing up their children in piety, 
humility and devotion, and abounding in all other good 

Le ; 


124 A SERIOUS CALL TOA _ 


works, to the utmoft of their ftate and capacity. ‘They 
have no choice of any, thing elfe, but muft devote them- 
felves to God in one of thefe ftates. They may choofe 
a married or a fingle life ; but it is not left to their choice, 
whether they will make either ftate a ftate of holinefs, 
humility, devotion, and all other duties of the Chriftian 
life. It is no more left in their power, becaufe they 
have fortunes, or are born of rich parents, to divide 
themfelves betwixt God and the world, or take fuch 
pleafures as their fortunes would afford them, that it is 
allowable for them to be fometimes chafte and modeft, 
and fometimes not. ; ary ; 
They are not to confider how much religion may fe- 
cure them a fair chara&ter, or how they may add devo- 
tion to an impertinent, vain, and giddy life; but muft 
- look into the f{pirit and temper of their prayers, into the 
nature and end of Chriftianity, and then they will find, — 
that whether married or unmarried, they have but one — 
bufinefs upon their hands, to be wife and pious, and — 
holy, ‘not in little modes and forms of worfhip ; but in — 
the whole turn of their minds, in the whole form of all 
their behaviour, and in the daily courfe of their common 
life. 4 
Young gentlemen muft confider, what our bleffed Sav- 
iour faid to the young gentleman in the gofpel, he bid 
him fell all that he had and give it to the poor. Now 
though tiris text fhould not oblige all people to fell all, 
yet it certainly obliges all kind of people to employ all 
their eftates in fuch wife and reafonable and charitable © 
ways, as may fufficiently fhew that all that they have is — 
devoted to God, and that no part of it is kept from the 
poor to be fpent in needlefs, vain, and foolifh expenfes. ~ 
If therefore young gentlemen propofe to themfelves a 
life of pleafure and indulgence, if they fpend their eftates. 
in a high living, in luxury and intemperance, in ftate and 


equipage, in pleafures and diverfions, in {ports and 

ing, and fuch like wanton gratifications of their foolifh — 

paffions, they have as much reafon to look upon them. 

felves to be angels, as to be difciples of Chrift, 
Let them be affured, that it is the one only bufinefs of 

a Chriftian gentleman, to diftinguifh himfelf | rood 

works, to be eminent in the moft fublime virtues 0} 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 126 


goipel, to bear with the ignorance and weaknefs of the 
vulgar, to be a friend and patron to all that dwell about 
him, to live in the utmoft heights of wifdom and holinefs, 
and fhew through the whole courfe of his life a true 
religious greatnefs of mind. They muft afpire after 
fuch a gentility, as they might have learnt from feeing 
the bleffled Jefus, and fhew no other fpirit of a gentle- 
man, but fuch as they might have got by living with the 
holy apoftles. They muft learn to love God with all 
their heart, with all their foul, and with all their ftrength, 
and their neighbour as themfelves ; and then they have 
ali the greatnefs and diftinGtion that they can have here, 
and are fit for an eternal happinefs in heaven hereafter. 

Thus inall orders and conditions either of men or 
women, this is the one common holinefs, which is to be 
the common life of ail Chriftians. 

The merchant is not to leave devotion to the clergy- 
man, nor the clergyman to leave humility to the labour- 
er ; women of fortune are not to leave it to the poor of 
their fex, to be difcreet, chafte keepers at home, to adorn 
themfelyes in modeft apparel, fhamefacednefs and fo- 
-briety ; nor poor women leave it to the rich to attend 
on the worfhip and fervice of God. Great men mutt be 
___ eminent for true poverty of fpirit, and people of a low 

and affliéted ftate muft greatly rejoice in God. 
The man of ftrength and power is to forgive and pray 
_ for his enemies, and the innocent fufferer that is chain- 
ed in prifon, muit with Paul and Silas, at midnight fing 
_ praife to God. For God is to be glorified, holinefs is 
to be praétifed, and the fpirit of religion is to be the 
_ common fpirit of every Chriftian in every flate and con- 

dition of life. 

For the Son of God did not come from above, to add 
» an external form of worfhip to the feveral ways of life 
_ that are in the world ; and fo to leave people to live as 
they did before, in fuch tempers and enjoyments as the 
_ fafhion and fpirit of the world approves. But as hecame - 
down from heaven, altogether divine and heavenly in his 
- Own nature, fo it was to call mankind to a divine and 
_ heavenly life ; to the higheft change of their whole na- 
_ ture and temper ; to be born again of the holy fpirit ; to 
_ walk in the wifdom and light and love of God ; and be 


, 


eh 


196 : A SERIOUS CALL ‘TO A 


like him tothe utmoft of their power ; to i 
the moft plaufible ways of the world, whether 0 = 
nefs, bufinefs, or pleafure ; ; to a mortification « of if 

* moft agreeable paffions ; and to live in fuch wifdom, and | 
purity, and holinefs, as might fit them to be slonone in ®t, 
the enjoyment of God to all eternity. 

Whatever therefore is foolifh, ridiculous, vain, pa i 
earthly, or fenfual in the life of a Chriftian, is fomething 
that ought not to be there, it is a fpot and a defilement © 
that muft be wafhed away with tears of repentance. 
But if any thing of this kind runs through the courfe 
of our whole life, if we allow ourfelves in things, that 
are either vain, foolifh or fenfual, we renounce our 
profeffion, 

_ For as fure as Jefus Chrift was wildom ond holinefs,. 
as fure as he came to make us like himfelf, and to be 
baptized into his fpirit, fo fure is it, that none can be 
faid to keep to their Chriftian profeffion, but they, who 
to the utmoft of their power live a wife and holy and — 
heavenly life. This, and this alone, is Chriftianity,. an 
univerfal holinefs in every part of life, a heavenly wife | 
dom in all our aétions, not conforming to the {pint and 
temper of the world, but turning all worldly Sioyaents 
into means of piety and devotion to God. 

But now if this devout ftate of heart, if thefe ee | 
of inward holinefs be true religion, then true religion — 
is equally the duty and happinefs of all orders of men ; 
for there is nothing to recommend it to one, that is not 
the fame recommendation of it to all ftates of people. pt 

If it be the happinefs and glory of a bithop to live in 
this devout fpirit, full of thefe holy tempers, doing every 
thing as unto God, it is as much the glory and happinels. 
of all men and women, whether young or old, to live in 
the fame {pirit. And whoever can find any reafons, — 
why an ancient bifhop fhould be intent upon divine — 
things, turning all his life into the higheft exercifes of 
piety, wifdom rari devotion, will find them fo many rea- 
fons, why he fhould to the utmoft of his i inne 
fame himfelf. «Ae 

If you fay, that a bifhop muft be an, ensinndes yan 
of Chriftian holinefs, becaufe of his high and facre 
sing, youfay right. But if you fay that it is more 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 127 


advantage to be exemplary, than it is yours, you greatly 

miftake. For there is nothing to make the higheft de- 

grees of holinefs defirable to a bifhop, but what makes 

ee equally defirable to every young perfon of every 
mily. 

For an exalted piety, high devotion, and the religious 
ufe of every thing, is as much the glory and happinefs of 
one ftate of life, as it is of another. 

Do but fancy in your mind what a fpirit of piety you 
would have in the beft bifhop in the world, how you 
would have him love God, how you would have him 
imitate the life of our Saviour and his‘ apoftles, how you 
would have him live above the world, fhining in all the 
inftances of a heavenly life, and then you have found 
out that fpirit, which you ought to make the fpirit of 
your own life, 

I defire every reader to dwell a while upon this re- 
fle&tion, and perhaps he will find more convi€tion from 
it, than he imagines. Every one can tell how good and 
pious he would have fome people to be ; every one knows 
how wife and reafonable a thing it is in a bifhop, to be 

_ entirely above the world, and be an example of Chriftian 
-perfe€tion ; as foon as you think ofa wife and ancient 
bifhop, you fancy fome exalted degree of piety, a living 
example of all thofe holy tempers, which you find de- 
feribed in the gofpel. 
| Now if you afk yourfelf, what is the happieft thing for 
‘a young clergyman to do? You muft be forced to an- 
{wer, that nothing can be fo happy and glorious for him, 
‘as to be like that excellent holy bifhop. 
_ If you go on, and afk what is the happieft thing for 
_ any young gentleman or his fifters to do ? The anfwer 
mutt be the fame ; that nothing can be fo happy or glo- 
| rious for them, as to live in fuch habits of piety, in fuch 
| exercifes of a divine life, as this good old bifhep does. 
For every thing that is great and glorious in religion, is 
‘as much the true glory of every man or woman, as it is 
the glory of any bifhop. If high degrees of divine love, 
if fervent charity, if {potlefs purity, if heavenly affeCtion, 
if conftant mortification, if frequent devotion be the beft 
_ and happieft way of life for any Chriftian ; it is fo fer 


% 


_ every Chriftian. 


128 A SERIOUS CALL TOA ; 


Confider again ; if you was to fee a bifhop in the 
whole courfe of his life, living below his charaéter, con- 
forming to all the foolifh tempers of the world, and:gov- 
erned by the fame cares and fears which govern vain 
and worldly men, what would you think of him? Would 
you think that he was only guilty of a fmall miftake ? 
No : you would condemn him, as erring in that which 
is not only the moit, but the only important matter that 
relates to him. Stay a while in this confideration, till 
your mind is fully conyinced, how miferable a miftake it 
2s in a bifhop, to live a carelefs, worldly life. 

Whilft you are*thinking in this manner, turn your 
thoughts towards fome of your acquaintance, your 
brother or fifter, or any*young perfon. Now if you fee 
the common courfe of their lives to be not according to 
the do€trines of the gofpel, if you fee that their way 
of life cannot be faid- to be a fincere endeavour to enter 
in at the ftrait gate, you fee fomething that you are to 
condemn in the fame degree, and for the fame reafons. 
They do not commit a fmall miftake, but are wrong in 
that which is their all, and miftake their true happinefs, 
as*much as that bifhop does, who negle&s the high du- 
ties of his calling. Apply this reafoning to yourfelf ; if 
you find yourfelf living an idle, indulgent, vain life, choof- 
ing rather to gratify your paflions, than to live up to 
the doftrines of Chrifttanity, and praétife the plain pre- 
cepts of our bleffed Lord, you have all that blindnefs and 
unreafonablenefs to charge upon yourfelf, that you can 
charge upon any irregular bifhop. es eee 

For all the virtues of the Chriftian life, its perfe& 
purity, its heavenly tempers, are as much the fole rule 
of your life, as the fole rule of the life’of a bifhop. If 
you neglect thefe holy tempers, if you do not eager; 
afpire after them, if you do not fhew yourfelf a vifible 
example of them, you are as much fallen from your true 
happinefs, you are as great an enemy to yourfelf, and 
have made as bad a choice, as that bifhop that choofes” 
rather to enrich bis family, than to be like an apoftle. For 
there is no reafon, why you fhould think the higheit ho. 
linefs the moft heavenly tempers, to be the duty and 
happinefs of abifhop ; but what is as good a reafe 
you fhould think the fame tempers, to be the d 


ee ee SL S——_ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. _ 129 


happinefs of all Chriftians. And as the wifeft bifhop in 
the world, is he, who lives in the greateft heights of ho- 
linefs, who is moft exemplary in all the exercifes of a 
divine life, fo the wifeft youth, the wifeft woman, whether 
married or unmarried, is fhe, that lives in the higheit de- 
grees of Chriftian holinefs, and all the exercifes of a di- 
vine and heavenly life. 


a SS 


i CHAP. XI. 


Shewing how great devotion fills our lives with the greateft 
peace and happine/s that can be enjoyed in this world. 


. SOME people will perhaps obje, that all thefe 
tules of holy living unto God in all that we do, are too 
great a reftraint upon human life ; that it will be made 
too anxious a flate, by thus introducing a regard to God 
in all our aétions. And that by depriving ourfelves of 
fo many feemingly innocent pleafures, we fhall render 
our lives dull, uneafy, and nielancholy. 

_ To which it may’be anfwered : 

_ Firft, That thefe rules are prefcribed for, and will 
certainly procure a quite contrary end. That inftead 
of making our lives dull and melancholy, they will ren- 
der them full of content and ftrong fatisfa@tions. That 
by thefe rules we only change the childith fatisfa@tions of 
our vain and fickly paffions, for the folid enjoyments, 
and-real happinefs of a found mind. 

_ Secondly, That as there is no foundation for comfort 
in the enjoyments of this life, but in the affurance that a 
wile and good God governeth the world, fo the more 
we find out God in every thing, the more we apply to 
him in every place, ‘the more we look up to him in all 
‘our actions, the more we conform to his will, the more 
we act according to his wifdem, and imitate his good- 
nefs, by fo much the more do we enjoy God, partake of. 
the divine nature, and heighten and increafe all that is’ 
happy and comfortable in human life. ‘ 
Thirdly, He that is endeavouring to fubdue and root 


- ~ 


130 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


out of his mind all thofe paffions of pride, envy, and am- 
bition, which religion oppofes, is doing more to make 
himfelf happy, even in this life, than he shaniereiriving 
means to indulge them. 

For -thefe paffions are the caufes of all the difquiets 
and vexations of human life: they are the dropfies and 
fevers of our minds, vexing them. with falfe appetites, 
and reftlefs cravings after fuch things as we do not want, 
and fpoiling our tafte for thofe me which are our 
proper good. 

Do but imagine that you foraicmittes or other faw a 
man that propofed reafon as the rule of all his aCtionsy.. 
that had no defires but after fuch things as nature wants, 
and religion approves, that was as pure from all the mo- 
tions of pride, envy, and covetoufnefs, as from thoughts 
of murder ; that in this freedom from worldly paffions, 
he had a foul full of divine love, wifhing and praying 
that all men may have what they want of worldly 
things, and be partakers of eternal glory in the life 
to come. 

Do but fancy a man living in this manner, and ‘your 
~ewn confcience will immediately tell you, that he is the 
happieft man in the world, and that it is not in the power 
of the richeft fancy to invent any higher happinefs in ms 4 
prefent ftate of life. 

And on the other hand, if you fuppofe him to be in 
any degree lefs perfect ; if you fuppofe him but fubje& 
to one foolifh fondnefs, or vain paflion, your own con-— 
{cience will again tell you, that he fo far leffens his own 
happinefs, and robs himfelf of the true enjoyment of his | 
other virtues. So true is it, that the more we live by 
the rules of religion, the more peseataly and happy do we > 
render our lives. ° i 

Again, as it thus appears, that wal happinefs is only 
to be had from the greateft degrees of piety, the greateft 
denials of our paffions, and the ftriéteft rules of religion, 
fo the fame truth will appear from a confideration of hu- 
man mifery. If we look into the world, and view the 
difquiets and troubles of human life, we fhall find th 
they are all owing to our violent and irreligious pa 

Now all trouble and uneafinefs is founded in the 
of fomething or other ; would we therefore 


7. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 131 


eaufe of our troubles and difquiets, we muft find 
caufe of our wants ; becaufe that which creates 

and increafeth our wants, does in the fame degree create 
* and increafe our trouble and difquiets. 

God Almighty has fent us into the world with very 
few wants ; meat, and drink, and clothing, are the only 
things neceffary in life ; and as thefe are ouly our prefent 
needs, fo the prefent world is well furnifhed to fupply 
thefe needs. 

If a man had half the world in his power, he can 
make no more of it than this; as he wants it only to 
fupport an animal life, fo it is unable to do any thing 
elfe for him, or to afford him any other happinefs. 

This is the ftate of man, born with few wants, and 
into a large world, very capable of fupplying them. So 
that one would reafonably fuppofe, that men fhould pafs 
their lives in content and thankfulnefls to God, at leatt 
that they fhould be free from violent difquiets and vexa- 
tions, as being placed in a world, that has more than 
enough to relieve all their wants. 

But if to all this we add, that this fhort life, thus fur- 
nifhed with all that we want in it, is only a fhort paflage 
~ to eternal glory, where we fhall be clothed with the 
brightnefs of angels, and enter into the joys of God, 
we might ftill more reafonably expe, that human life 
fliould be a ftate of peace, and joy, and delight in God. . 
Thus it would certainly be, if reafon had its full power 
over us. 

But alas, though God, and nature, and reafon, make 
human life thus free from wants, and fo full of happi- 
nefs, yet our paffions, in rebellion againft God, againft 
nature and reafon, create a new world of evils, and fill 
human life with imagMmary wants, and vain difquiets. 
The man of pride has a thoufand wants, which only 
his own pride has created ; and thefe render him as full 
of trouble, as if God had created him with a thoufand 
| -appetites, without creating any thing that was proper to 

fatisfy them. Envy andambition have alfo their endlefs 
wants, which difquiet the fouls of men, and by their 
contradictory motions, render them as foolifhly mif- 
erable, as thofe that want to fly and creep at the fame 


time, ead 
* } TH 


132 "A SERIOUS CALL TOA ; 


Let but any complaining, difquieted man tell you the 
ground of his uneafinefs, and you will plainly fee, that | 
he is the author of his own torment ; that he is vexing — 
himfelf at fome imaginary evil, which will ceafe to tor- 
ment him, as foon as he is content to be that which God, 
and nature, and reafon require him to be. 

If you fhould fee a man paffing his days in difquiet, 
becaufe he could not walk upon the water, or catch birds 
as they fly by him, you would readily confefs, that fuch 
a one might thank himfelf for fuch uneafinefs. But now, 
if you lcok into all the moft tormenting difquiets of 
life, you will find them all thus abfurd ; where people are 
only tormented by their own folly, and vexing them- 
felves at fuch things as no more concern them, nor are 
any more their proper good, than walking upon the 
water, or catching birds. 

What can you conceive more filly and extravagant, 
than to fuppofe a man racking his brains, and ftudying 
night and day how to fly ? wandering from his own houfe 
and home, wearying himfelf with climbing upon every 
afcent, cringing and courting every body he meets, to 
lift him up from the ground, bruifing himfelf with con- 
tinual falls, and at laft breaking his neck ? And all this, 
from an imagination that it would be glorious to have 
the eyes of people gazing up at him, and mighty happy ~ 
to eat, and drink, and fleep, at the top of the higheit 
trees in the kingdom. Would you not readily own, that — 
fuch a one was only difquieted by his own folly ? 

~If-you afk, what it fignifies to fuppofe fuch filly 
creatures as thefe, as are no where to be found in human © 
life ? 

It may be anfwered, that wherever you fee an ambi- 
tious man, there you foe this vain and fenfelefs flyer. _ , 

Again, if you fhould fee a man that had a large pond 
of water, yet living in continual thirft, not fuffering 
himfelf to drink half a draught, for fear of leffening his. 7 
pond ; if you fhould fee him wafting his time bs it 
frength, in fetching more water to his pond, always 
thirfty, yet always carrying a bucket of water in his han 
watching early and late to catch the drops of rain, ; 
ing after every cloud, and running greedily into : 
mire and mud, in hopes of water, and alway 


, DEvouT AND HOLY LIFE. 138 
how to Pak every ditch empty itfelf into his pond. If 
ou fhould fee him grow grey and old in thefe anxious 
bours, and at laft end a careful, thirfty lifey by falling 
into his own pond, would you not fay that fuch a one 
was not only the author of all his own difquiets, but was 
foolifh enough to be reckoned amongft ideots and mad- 
men? But yet foolifh and abfurd as this charatter is, it 
does not reprefent half the follies, and abfurd difquicts, 
of the covetous man. 

I could now eafily proceed to fhew the fame effects of 
all our other paffions ; and make it plainly appear, that 
all our miferies, vexations, and complaints, are entirely of 
our own making, and that in the fame abfurd manner, as 
in thefe inftances of the covetous and ambitious man. 
Look where you will, you will fee all worldly vexations 
but like the vexation of him, that was always in mire and 
mud in fearch of water to drink, when he had more at 
home than was fufficient for an hundred horfes. 

Celia is always telling you how provoked fhe is, what 
intolerable fhocking things happen to her, what mon-_ 
ftrous ufage fhe fuffers, and what vexations fhe meets 
with every where. She tells you that her patience is 
quite wore out, and there is no bearing the behaviour of 
people. Every affembly that fhe is at, fends her home 
provoked ; fomething or other has been faid or done, 
that no reafonable, well-bred perfon ought to bear. Poor 
people that want her charity, are fent away with hafty 
anfwers, not becaufe fhe has not a heart to part with 

_ any money, but becaufe fhe is too full of fome trouble of 
her own, to attend the complaints of others. Czlia has 
no bufinefs upon her hands, but to receive the income 
of a plentiful fortune ; but yet by the doleful turn of 
her mind, you would be apt to think, that fhe had nei- 

i ther food nor lodging. If you fee her look more pale 
than ordinary, if her lips tremble when fhe fpeaks to 
you, it is becaufe fhe is juft come from a vifit, where 

_ Lupus took no notice at all of her, but talked all the time 
to Lucinda, who has not half her fortune. When crofs 

~ accidents have fo difordered her fpirits, that fhe is forced 

- to fend for the doétor to make her able to eat’; fhe tells 

7 him, in great anger at Providence, that fhe never was 


* 


134 A poaigscuiel CALL TO A’ 


well fince fhe was Hern, and that fhe cnvies evry be beggar 
that fhe fees in health. 

This is the difquiet life of Celia, who has nothing to 
torment her but her own fpirit. 

If you would infpire her with a Chriftian hiesifiey; 
you need do no more to make her happy as any perfon 
in the world. This virtue would make her thankful to 
God for half fo much health as fhe has had, and help 
her to enjoy more for the time to come. This virtue 
would keep off tremblings of the fpirits, and lofs of ap- 
petite, and her blood would need nothing elfe to fweeten 
ifs 3 

I have juft touched upon thefe abfurd charaéters for 
no other end, but to convince you in the plaineft man- 
ner; that the flri€teft rules of religion are fo far from 
rendering a life-dull, anxious, and uncomfortable (as is 
above objeéted) that, on the contrary; all the miferies, 
vexations, and.complaints that are in the world, are all 
owing to the want of religion ; being dire@ily caufed : 
by thofe abfurd paffions, which religion teaches us to 
deny. ay 

For all the wants which difturb human life, which | 
make us uneafy to ourfelves, quarrelfome with others, 
and unthankful to God ; which*weary us in vain labours” : 
and foolifh anxieties ; which carry us from proje&t to 
project, from place to place, in a poor purfuit of ob 
don’t know what, are the wants which neither God, nor 
nature, nor reafon hath f{ubjected us to, but are folely — 
infufed into us, by pride, envy, ambition, and covetoul 
nefs. 

So far therefore as you reduce your defires to ‘fuel 
things as nature and reafon require ; fo far as you regu- 
late all the motions of your heart by the ftri@ rules of — 
religion, fo far you remove yourfelf from that infinity of 
wants and vexations, which torment every heart that is q 
left to itfelf. ae 

Moft people indeed confefs, that religion ‘pee us 
from a great many evils, and helps us in many refped Ai ee 
to a more happy enjoyment of ourfelves ; butethe 
imagine, that this 1s only true of fuch a modera 
of religion, as only gently reftrains us from th 
ef our paffions. They fuppofe that the ftrié rul 


a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 185 


reftraints of an exalted piety, are {uch contradiGtions to 
our nature, as muft needs make our lives dull and un- 


comfortable. 


Although the weaknefs of this objection fufficiently 
appears from what hath been already faid, yet I fhall 


’ add one word more to it. 


This objeGtion fuppofes, that religion, moderately 
practifed, adds much to the happinefs of life ; but that 
fuch hetght of piety as the perfection of religion requir- 
eth, have a contrary effect. 

It fuppofes therefore, that it is happy to be kept from 
the exceffes of envy, but unhappy to be kept from other 
degrees of envy ; that it is happy to be delivered from 
a boundlefs ambition, but unkappy to be without a more 
moderate ambition. It fuppofes alfo, that the happinefs 
of life confifts in a mixture of ambition, and humility, 
charity and envy, heavenly affeGtion and covetoufnels. 
All which is as abfurd, as to fuppofe that it is happy to 
be free from exceffive pains, but unhappy to be without 
more moderate pains ; or that the happinefs of health 
confifted in being partly fick, and partly well. 

For if humility be the peace and reft of the foul, then 
no one has fo much happinefs from humility, as he that 
is the moft humble. If exceffive envy is a torment of 
the foul, he moft perfeCtly delivers himfelf from torment, 
that moft perfectly extinguifhes every fpark of envy. If 
there is any peace and joy in doing any ation acccording 
to the will of God, he that brings the moft of his a€tions 
to this rule, does moft of all increafe the peace and joy 
of his life. 

And thus it is in every virtue ; if you a€up to every 
degree of it, the more happinefs you have from it. And 
fo of every vice ; if you only abate its exceffes, you do 
but little for yourfelf ; but if you reje& it in all de- 
grees, then you feel the true eafe and joy of a reformed 
mind. 

As for example ; if religion only reftrains the exceffes 
of revenge, but lets the {pirit ftill live within you im 
Ieffer inftances, your religion may have made your life 

alittle more outwardly decent, but not have made you 

ll happier or eafier im yourfelf. But if you have 

ence facrificed all thoughts of revenge, in obedience te 
ca M 2 


2 , To ee 


136 _ A SERIOUS CALL TO A . 
God, and are refolved to return good for evil at all times, 
that you may render yourfelf more like to God, and 
fitter for his mercy in the kingdom of love and glory ; 
this is a height of virtue that will make you feel its hap- 
pinefs. 

Secondly, As to thofe Satietitioun and enjoyments 
which an exalted piety requireth us to deny ourfelves, 
this deprives us of real comfort of life. 

For, 1/, Piety requires us to renounce no ways of 
life, where we can aét reafonably, and offer what we do 
to the glory of God. All ways of life, all fatisfactions 
and enjoyments that are within thefe bounds, are no 
way denied us by, the ftriéteft rules of piety. Whatever 
you can do, or enjoy, as in the prefence of God, as his 
fervant, as his rational creature, that has received reafon 
and knowledge from him ; all that you can perform con- 
formably to a rational nature, and the will of God, all 
this is allowed by the laws of piety ; and will you think 
that your life will be uncomfortable, unlefs you may 
difpleafe God, be a fool and mad, and a& contrary to 
that reafon and wifdom which he has implanted in you ? 

And as for thofe fatisfaGtions, which we dare not ones) | 
to a holy God, which are only invented by the folly and — 
corruption of the world, which inflame our paffions, and ~ 
fink our fouls into groffnefs and fenfuality, and render — 
us incapable, of the divine favour either here or hereaf- 
ter ; furely it can be no uncomfortable fate of life, to 
be refcued by religion from fuch felf-murder, and to be 
rendered capable of eternal happinefs. 

Let us fuppofe a perfon deftitute of that icniewlodtie 
which we have from our fenfes, placed fomewhere alone ~ 
by himfelf, in the midft of a variety. of things which ~ 
he did not know how to ufe, that he has by him bread, — 
wine, water, golden duit, iron chains, gravel, garments, — 
fire, &c. Let it be fuppofed, that he has no knowledge ~ 
of the right ufe of thefe things, nor any direétion 
his fenfes how to quench his thirft, or fatisfy | 
or make any ufe’ of the things about him. J 
fuppofed, that in his draught he puts golden 
his eyes ; when his eyes {mart, he puts wine: 
ears ; that in his hunger, he puts gravel i in 
that in pain, he'loads himfelf with the iron 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 137 


feeling cold, he puts his feet in the water ;_ that being 
frighted at the fire, he runs away from it; that being 
weary, he makesa feat of his bread. Let it be fuppof- 
ed, that through his ignorance of the right ufe of the 
things that are about him, he will plainly torment him- 
felf whilft he lives ; and at laft die, blinded with duft, 
choked with gravel, and loaded with irons. Let it be 
fuppofed that fome good being came to him, and fhewed 
him the nature and ufe of all the things that were about 
him, and gave him fuch ftn& rules of ufing them, as 
would certainly, if obferved, make him the happier for 
all that he had, and deliver him from the pains of hun- 
ger, and thirft, and cold. 

Now could you with any reafon affirm, that thofe 
ftri& rules of ufing thofe things that were about him, 
had rendered that poor man’s life dull and uncomfort- 
able ? 

Now this is in fome meafure a reprefentation of the 
ftri& rules of religion ; they only relieve our ignorance, 
fave us from tormenting ourfelves, and teach us to ufe 
everything about us to our proper advantage. 

_» Manis placed in-a world full of variety of things ; his 
ignorance makes him ufe many of them as abfurdly, as 

_ the man that put duft in his eyes to relieve his thirft, or 
put on chains to remove pain. 

Religion therefore here comes in to his relief, and 
gives him ftri&t rules of ufing every thing that is about 
him ; that by fo ufing them fuitably to his own nature 
and the nature of the things, he may have always the 
pleafure of receiving a right benefit from them. It ~ 
fhews him what is firiGly right in meat, drink, and 
clothes ; and that he has nothing elfe to expe& from the 
things of this world, but to fatisfy fuch wants of his 
‘own ; and then to extend his affliitance to all his breth- 
ren, that as far as he is able, he may help all his fellow- 
raga to the fame benefit from the world that he 

_ hath. 

a It tells him, that this world is incapable of giving him 
ny other happinefs ; and that all endeavours to be hap- 
yy in heaps of money, or acres of land, in fine clothes, 
ch beds, ftately equipage, and fhew and fplendour, 
nly - vain endeavonrs, ignorant attempts after im- 


‘an end to life, yet if we take any at all, it corrupts 


138 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


poffibilities ; thefe things being no more able to give 
the leaft degree of happinefs, than duft in the eyes can 
cure thirft, or gravel in the mouth fatisfy hunger ; but, 
like duft and gravel mifapplied, will only ferve to ren- 
der him’ more unhappy by fuch an ignorant mifufe of 
them. ‘i 

It tells him, that although this world can do no more 
for him, than fatisfy thefe wants of the body ; yet that 
there is a much greater good prepared for man, than eat- 
ing, drinking, and drefling ; that it is yet invifible to his 
eyes, being too glorious for the apprehenfion of flefh and 
blood ; but referved for him to enter upon, as foon as 
this fhort life is over ; where, in a new body, formed to — 
an angelic likenefs, he fhall dwell in the light and glory 
of God to all eternity. 

It tells him, that this ftate of glory will be given to 
all thofe, that make a right ufe of the things of this 
prefent world ; who do not blind themfelves with golden 
duft, or eat gravel, or groan under loads of iron of their 
own putting on ; but ufe bread, water, wine, and gar- 
ments, for fuch ends as are according to nature and rea- _ 
fon ; and who with faith and thankfulnefs worfhip the — 
kind giver of all that they enjoy here, and hope for 
hereafter. 

Now can any one fay, that the ftri€teft rules of fuch — 
a religion as this, debar us any of the comforts of life ? - 
Might it not as juftly be faid of thofe rules, that only 
hindered a man from choking himfelf with gravel? For — 
the ftriétnefs of thefe rules only confifts in the exa@inefs — 
of their re€titude. . 

Who could complain of the fevere ftri€tnefs of a law, — 
that without any exception forbad the putting of duft — 
into our eyes ? Who could think it too rigid, that there Y 
were no abatements ? Now this is the ftri€tnefs of relig- 
ion, it requires nothing of us ftri€tly, or without abate= — 
ments, but where every degree of the thing is wrong, — 
where every indulgence does us fome hurt. AS 

If religion forbids all inftances of revenge without any — 
exception, it is becaufe all revenge is of the nature of 
poifon ; and though we do not take fo much as to pi 


‘ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 129 


” whole mafs of blood, and makes it difficult to be reftored 
_ to our former health. 

religion commands an univerfal charity, to love our 
neighbour as ourfelves, to forgive and pray for all our 
enemies without any referve ; it is becaufe all degrees of 
love are degrees of happinels, that ftrengthen and fupport 
the divine life of the foul, and are as neceffary to its 
health. and happinefs, as proper food is neceflary to the 
health and happinefs of the body. 

If religion has laws againft laying up treafures upon 
earth, and commands us to be content with food and 
raiment ; it is becaufe every other ufe of the world is 
abufing i ein Git’ own vexation, and turning all its con- 
¥enieticies into fhares and traps to deftroy us. It is be- 
“eaufe this plainnefs and fimplicity of life, fecures us from 
the cares and pains of reftlefs pride and envy, and makes 
it eafier to keep that ftrait road that will carry us to 
eternal life. 

If religion faith, Sell that thou haf, and give io the 
poor 5 it is becaufe there is no other natural or reafonable 
ufe of our riches, no other way of making ourfelves 
happier for them ; it is becaufe it is as firiGly nght to 
: give others that which we do not want ourfelves, as it 
is tight to ufe fo much as our own wants require. For 
_ if man has more food than his own nature requires, 
how bafe and unreafonable is it, to invent foolifh ways 
_ of wafting it, and make fport for his own full belly, 
| rather than let his fellow-creatures have the fame comfort 
| from food, which he hath had? It is fo far therefore 
__ from being a hard law of religion, to make this ufe of 
[ our riches, that a reafonable man would rejoice in that 
| religion which teaches him to be happier in that which 
he gives away, than in that which he keeps for himieif ; 
| which teaches him to make {pare food and raiment be 
1 ter bleflings to him, than that which feeds and clothes 
1s E. own body. 

_ If religion requires us fometimes to fait, and deny our 
| Batural appetites, it is to leffen that ftruggle and war 
{ 


that is in our nature ; it is to render our bodies fitter int 
ftruments of urity, and more obedient to the good mo- 
of @ grace ; it is to dry up the fprings of our 
s that war = the foul, to cool the flame of 


140 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


our blood, and render the mind more capable of divine 
meditations, So that although thefe abftinences give 
fome pain to the body, yet they fo leflen the power of 
bodily appetites and paffions, and fo increafe our tafte of 
fpiritual joys, that even thefe feverities of religion, when 
practifed with difcretion, add much to the comfortable 
enjoyment of our lives. 
_ If religion calleth us toa life of watching and prayer, 
it is becaufe we live amongft a crowd of enemies, and 
are always in need of the affiftance of God. If we are 
to confefs and bewail our fins, it is becaufe fuch con- 
feffions relieve the mind, and reftore it to eafe ; as bur- 
dens and weights taken off the fhoulders, relieve the 
body, and make it eafier to itfelf. If we are to be 
frequent and fervent in holy petitions, it is to keep us 
fteady in the fight of our true good, and that we may 
never want the happinefs of a lively faith, a joyful 
hope, and well-grounded truft in God. If we are to 
pray often, it is that we may, be often happy in fuch 
fecret joys as only prayer can give; in fuch communi- 
cations of the divine prefence, as will fill our minds 
with all the happinefs that beings not in heaven are 
capable of. 

Was there any thing in the world more worth our 
care ; was there any exercife of the mind, or any con= 
verfation with men, that turned more to our advantage 
than this intercourfe with God, we fhould not be called 
to fuch a continuance in prayer. But if a man confiders 
what it is that he leaves when he retires to devotion, he 
will find it no {mall happinefs to be fo often relieved 
from doing nothing, or nothing to the purpofe ; from 
dull idlenefs, unprofitable labour, or vain couvestattal 
If he confiders, that all that is in the world, and all that 
is doing in it, is only for the body, and bodily enjoy- 
ments, he will have reafon to rejoice at thofe hours of 
prayer, which carry him to higher confolations, whicl 
raife him above thefe poor concerns, which open to his 
mind a fcene of greater things, and accuftom his foul ta 
the hope and expe€tation of them. ae 

If religion commands us to live wholly unto God, an 
to do all to his glory ; it is becaufe every other way 1 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 14] 


living wholly againft ourfelves, and will end in our own 
fhame and confufion of face. 

As every thing is dark, that God does not enlighten ; 
as every thing is fenfelefs, that has not its fhare of knowl- 


edge from him ; as nothing lives, but by partaking of 


life from him ; as nothing exifts, but becaufe he com- 
mands it to be ; fo there is no glory, or greatnefs, but 
what is the glory or greatnefs of God. 

We indeed may talk of human glory, as we may talk 
of human life or human knowledge ; but as we are fure 
that human life implies nothing of our own, but a de- 
pendent living in God, or enjoying fo much life in God ; 
fo human glory, whenever we find it, mutt be only fo 


_ auch glory as we enjoy in the glory of God. 


_ This is the ftate of all creatures, whether men or 
angels ; as they make not themfelves, fo they enjoy 
nothing from themfelves ; if they are great, it muft be 


. only as great receivers of the gifts of God ; their power 


ean only be fo much of the divine power ating i 
them ; their wifdom can be only fo much of the divine 
wifdom fhining within them ; and their light and glory, 
only fo much of the light and glory of God fhining up- 
on them. 

As they are not men or angels, becaufe they hada 
mind to be fo themfelves, but becaufe the will of God 
formed them to be what they are ; fo they cannot enjoy 
this or that happinefs of men or angels, becaufe they 


_ have a mind to it, but becaufe it is the will of God, 


that fuch things be the happinefs of men, and fuch 
things the happinefs of angels. But now if God be thus 
all in all ; if his will is thus the meafure of all things, 
and all natures ; if nothing can be done, but by his pow- 
er; if nothing can be feen, but by a light from him ; if 


| we have nothing to fear, but from his juitice ; if we have 


| nothing to hope for, but from his goodnefs ; if this is 
' the nature of man, thus helplefs in himfelf ; if this is the 


ftate of all creatures, as well thofe in heaven, as thofe on 
earth ; if they are nothing, can do nothing, can fuffer 
No pain, nor feel any happinefs, but fo far, and in fuc 

degrees, as the power of God does all this: if this be 
i ftate of things, then how can we have the leaft 
gl mpfe of joy and comfort, how can we have any peace- 


3 


gay 


— 
142 . A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


ful enjoyment of ourfelves, but by living wholly unte 
that God, ufing and doing every thing conformably to 
his will? A life thus devoted unto God, looking whélly 
unto him in all our actions, and doing all things fuitably 
to his glory, is fo far from being dull, and uncomforta- 
ble, that it creates new comforts in every thing that we 
do. 

On the contrary, would you fee how happy they are 
who live according to their own wills, who cannot fub- 
mit to the dull and melancholy bufinefs of a life devoted 
unto God ? look at the man in the parable, to whom his 
lord had given one talent. 

He could not bear the thoughts of ufing his talent 
according to the will of him from whom he had it, and 
therefore he chofe to make himfelf happier in a way 
of his own. Lord, fays he, J knew thee, that thou art an 
hard man, reaping where thou haft not fown, and gather- 
ing where thou haft not ftrawed. And I was afraid, and 
£: and hid thy talent in the earth. Lo there thou haft that 
is thine. Matt. xxv. 24. : 

His lord having conviéted him out of his own mow y 
difpatches him with this fentence : Caf? the unprofitable 
fervant into outer darknefs ; there fhall be weeping and 
gnafbing of teeth. Matt. xxv. 30. ~ 

Here you fee how happy this man made himfelf by 
not adting wholly according to the Lord’s will. It was, 
according to his own account, a happinefs of murmur. 
and difcontent ; I knew thee, fays he, that’ thou 
an hard man: it was an happinefs of fears and appre 
henfions ; I was, fays he, afraid: it was an happinefs- 
of vain labours and fruitlefs travails: I went, fays he, 
and hid thy talent ; ; and after having been a while 


and zing of teeth. 
Now this is the happinefs of all thofe, who look 
a ftri& and exalted piety, that is, a right ufe 
talent, to be a dull and melancholy ftate of lift H 
_ They may live a while free from the reftraints anc 
dire€tions of religion, but inftead thereof, they 
under the abfurd government of their bee 
muft, like the man in the parable, live in 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 148 


and difcontents, in fearsand apprehenfions. 'They may 

avoid the labour of doing good, of {pending their time 

devoutly, ‘of laying up treafures in heaven, of clothing 
the naked, of vifiting the fick ; but then they muft, like 
this man, have labours and pains in vain, that tend to no 

_ ufe or advantage, that do no good either to themfelves, 
or others ; they muft travail, and labour, and work, and 
dig to hide their talent in the earth. They muft ike him, 
at the Lord’s coming, be convicted out of their own 
mouths, be accufed by their own hearts, and have every 
thing thbt they have faid and thought of religion, be 
made to fhew the juftice of their condemnation to eter- 
nal darknefs, weeping and gnafhing of teeth. 

This the purchafe that they make, who avoid the 
ftriGinefs and perfection of religion, in order to live hap- 
pily. 

On the other hand, would you fee a fhort defcription 
of the happinefs of a life rightly employed, wholly de- 
voted to God, you muft look at the man in the parab 
to whom his Lord had givep five talents. Lord, fays he, 
thou delivereft unto me firvegialents : behold, I have gained 
befides them five talent His Lord faid unto him, 

' Well done thou good.amie Faithful fervant ; thou haft been 
faithful over a fe 5, I will make thee ruler over many 
things ; enter thowtnto the joy of thy Lord. 

Here you fee a life that-is wholly intent upon the im 
provement of the talents that is devoted wholly unto 
God, is a ftate of happinefs, profperous labours, and glo- - 
rious fuccefs. Here are not, as in the former cafe, any 
' uneafy paflions, murmurings, vain fears, and fruitlefs 
, Iabours. The man is not toiling, and digging in the 
\e@arth for no end or advantage ; but his pious labours 
| profper in his hands, his happinefs increafes upon him, 
the blefling of five becomes the blefling of ten talents ; 
| and he is received with a Well done geod and faithful fer~ 
vant, enter thou into the joy of ihy Lord. 

Now as the cafe of thefe men in the parable left noth- 

ing elfe to their choice, but either to be happy in ufing 

their gifts to the glory of the Lord, or miferable by 

ufing them according to their own humours and fancies ; 

9 the ftate of Chriftianity leaves us no other choice. 

that we haye, all that we are, all that we enjoy, 
N 


ba) 
. 


a, 
‘ . : 
a « 


144 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


are only fo many talents from God: if we ufe thém to 
the ends of a pious and holy life, our five talents, will 
become ten, and our labours will carry us into the® oy 
. of our Lord ; but if we abufe them to the gratifications 
of our own paffions, facrificing the gifts of God to our 
own pride and vanity, we fhall live here in vain labours 
and foolifh anxieties, fhunning religion as a melancholy 
thing, accufing our Lord as a hard mafter, and then fall 
into everlafting mifery. 

We may for a while amufe ourfelves with names, and 
founds, and fhadows of happinefs ; we may talk of this 
or that greatnefs and dignity ; but if we defire real hap- 
pinefs, we have no other poffible way to it, but by im- 
proving our talents, by fo holily and pioufly ufing the 
powers and faculties of men in this prefent ftate, that 
we may be happy and glorious in the powers and facul- 
ties of angels in the world to come. 

How ignorant thereforé are they of the nature of re. 
Ai ditn, of the nature of man, and the nature of God, who 
think a life of ftri& piety and devotion to God, to be a 
dull and uncomfortable ftate ; when it is fo plain and 
certain, that there is neither comfort or joy to be oT 
in any = elfe ? . 

P 


CHAP. (ite ag 


The happinefs of alife wholly devoted unto ‘God, arther 
proved, from the vanity, ae fenfuality, and the ridic u- 
lous, poor enjoyments, which they are forced to take u 
with, who lve according to their own humours. T) 
reprefented in various charaéers. 


WE may till fee more of the happinefs 
devoted unto God, by confidering the poor con 
for happinefs, and the contemptible ways of | life, wl 
they are thrown into, who are not under the dire 
of a ftri& piety, but feeking after happinel 
methods. “a 

If one looks at their lives, who live by 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 145 


theif own humours‘and fancies ; if one fees but what it 
is, which they call joy, and greatnefs, and happinefs ; if 
one fees how they rejoice and repent, change and fly 
from one delufion to another ; one fhall find great reafon 
to rejoice, that God hath appointed a ftrait and narrow 
way that leadeth unto life, and that we are not left to 
the folly of our own minds, or forced to take up with 
fuch fhadows of joy and happinefs, as the weaknefs and 
folly of the world has invented. I fay invented, becaufe 
thofe things which make up the joy and happinefs of 
this world, are mere inventions, which have no founda- 
tion in nature .and reafon, are no way the proper good 
or happinefs of man, no way perfe& either in his body, 
or his mind, or carry him to his true end. 

As for inftance, when a man propofes to be happy 
in ways of ambition, by raifing himfelf to fome imagi- 
nary heights above other people ; this is truly an inven- 
tion of happinefs which has no foundation in nature, 
but is as mere a cheat of our own making, as if a man 
fhould intend to make himfelf happy by climbing up a 
ladder. 

If a woman feeks for a happinefs from fine colours or 
{pots upon her face, from jewels and rich clothes, this is 
as merely an invention of happinefs, as contrary to na- 
ture and reafon, as if fhe fhould propofe to make herfelf 

happy, by painting a poft, and putting the fame finery 

upon it. It is in this refpeé that I call thefe joys and 
happinefs of the world, mere inventions of happinefs, 
becaufe neither God, nor nature, nor reafon hath ap- 
pointed them as fuch ; but whatever appears joyful, or 
great, or happy in them, is entirely created or invented 
by the blindnefs and vanity of our own minds. 

And it’is on thefe inventions of happinefs, that I de- 


_ fire you to caft your eye, that you may thence learn, 


| 


i 


how great a good religion is, which delivers you: from 
fuch a multitude of follies and vain purfuits, as are the 
torment and vexation of minds, that wander from their 
true happinefs in God. 

Look at Flatus, and learn how miferable they are, 
who are left to the folly of their own paffions. 
__ Flatus is rich and in health, yet always uneafy, and 
“always fearching after happinefs. Every time you vifit 


r, an Bh Sai ces te 
oJoe 


146 2%" A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


him, you find fome new projet in his head, he is caper 
upon it, as fomething that is more worth his while, aad 
~ will do more for him, than any thing that is already paft. 
Every new thing fo feizes him, that if you was to take 
him from it, he would think himfelf quite undone. His 
fanguine temper, and ftrong paffions, promife him fo 
much happinefs in every thing, that he is always cheated, 
and is fatisfied with nothing. 

At his firft fetting out in life, fine clothes was his ded 
light, his inquiry was only after the beft tailors and per- 
uke-makers, and he had no thoughts of excelling in any 
thing but drefs. He fpared no expenfe, but carried ev- 
ery nicety to its greateft height. But this happinefs not 
anfwering his expeétations, he left off his brocades, put 
on_a plain coat, railed at fops and beaux, and gave him- 
felf up to gaming with great eagernefs. 

This new pleafure fatisfied him for fome time, fie en- 
vied no other way of life. But being by the fate of 
play drawn into a duel, where he narrowly efcaped his 
death, he left off the dice, and fought for happinefs no — 
longer amongft the gamefters. 

The next thing that feized his wandering imagination, — 
was the diverfions of the town: and for more than a 
twelvemonth, you heard him talk of nothing but ladies, — 
drawing-rooms, birth-nights, plays, balls, and affem- — 
blies. But growing fick of thefe, he had recourfe to ~ 
hard drinking. Here he had many a merry night, and — 
met with ftronger joys than any he had feit before. 
Here he had thoughts of fetting up his itaff, and looking ~ 
out no farther ; “but unluckily falling into a fever, he — 
grew angry at all ftrong liquors, and took his leave og 0 
the happinefs of being drunk, 

The next attempt after happinefs, carried him into el 
field, for two or three years nothing was fo happy as 
hunting ; he entered upon it with all his foul, and leaped — 
more hedges and ditches than had ever been known in fo 
fhort a time. You never faw him but in a green coat 5 ~ 
he was the envy of all that blow the horn, and always 
{poke to his dogs in great propriety of language. If you 
met him at home in a bad day, you would hear him blow 
his horn, and be entertained with the furprifing ace 
of the laft noble chafe. No fooner ha Filatus 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 147 


done all the world in the breed and education of his 
dogs, built new kennels, new ftables, and bought a new 
hunting-feat, but he immediately got fight of another 
happinefs, hated the fenfelefs noife and hurry of hunt- 
ing, gave away his dogs, and was for fome time after 
deep in the pleafures of building. 

Now he invents new kind of dove-cotes, and has fuch 
contrivances in his barns and ftables, as were never feen 
before : he wonders at the dulnefs of the old builders, is 
wholly bent upon the improvement of archite€ture, and 


* will hardly hang a door in the ordinary way. He tells 


his friends, that he never was fo delighted in any thing 
in his life ; that he has more happinefs amongit his 
brick and mortar, than ever he had at court ; and that he 
is contriving how to have fome little matter to do that 
way as long as he lives. 

The next year he leaves his houfe unfinifhed, com- 
plains to every body of mafons and carpenters, and de- 
yotes himfelf wholly to the happinefs of riding about. 
After this, you can never fee him but on horfe-back, and 
fo highly delighted with this new way of life, that he 
would tell you, give him but his horfe and a clean coun- 
try to ride in, and you might take all the reft to your- 
felf. A variety of new faddles and bridles, anda great 
change of horfes, added much to the pleafure of this 
new way of life. But however, having after fome time 
tired both himfelf and his horfes, the happieft thing he 
could think of next, was to go abroad and vifit foreign 
countries ; and there indeed happinefs exceeded his im- 
agination, and he was only uneafy that he had begun fo 
fme a life no fooner. The next month he returned 
home, unable to bear any longer the impertinence of 
foreigners. 

After this, he was a great ftudent for one whole year ; 
he was up early and late at his ltalian grammar, that he 
might have the happinefs of underitanding the opera, 


_ whenever he fhould hear one, and uot be like thofe un- 


reafonable people, that are pleafed with they don’t know 
what. \ 

_ Flatus is very ill-natured, or otherwife, jut as his af- 

fairs happen to be when you vifit him ; if you find him 

when fome project is almoft wore out, you will find a 

Pe N2 oer. 


: 2 
Bios 


Qe eee Tee eee 
148 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


peevith ill-bred man ; but if you had feen him juft as he 
entered upon his riding regimen, or begun to excel in 
founding of the horn, you had been faluted with great 
civility. 

Flatus is now at a full ftand, and is doing what 
he never did in his life before, he is reafoning and re- 
fleting with himfelf. He lofes feveral days, in con- 
fidering which of his caft-off ways of life he fhould try 
again. ; 

PB here a new project comes in to his relief. He is © 
now living upon herbs, and running about the country, 
to get himfelf into as good wind as any running footman 
in the kingdom. 

I have been thus circumftantial in fo many foolifh par- 
ticulars of this kind, becaufe I hope, that every par- 
ticular folly that you fee here, will naturally turn itfelf 
into an argument for the wifdom and happinefs of a re- 
ligious life. 7 ' 

If I could lay before you a particular account of all 
the circumftances of terror and diftrefs, that daily attend 
a life at fea, the more particular I was in the account, 
the more I fhould make you feel and rejoice in the hap- 
pinefs of living upon the land. 

In like manner, the more I enumerate the follies, 
anxieties, delufions, and reftlefs defires which go through 
every part of a life devoted to human paffions, and 
worldly enjoyments, the more you muft be affeéted 
with that peace, and reft, and folid content, which re- 
ligion gives to the fouls of men. ~ 7 

If you had but juft caft your eye upon a madman, or 
-a fool, it perhaps fignifies little or nothing to you; but 
if you was to attend them for fome days, and obferve 
the lamentable madnefs and ftupidity of all their aGtions, — 
this would be an affecting fight, and would make you 
often blefs yourfelf for the enjoyment of your reafon and 
fenfes. ; 39% 

Juft fo, if you are only told in the grofs, of the 
folly and madnefs of a life. devoted to the world, it 
makes little or no impreffion upon you ; but if you are 
fhewn how fuch people live every day ; if you fee the 
continual folly and madnefs of all their particular 
tions and defigas, this would be an affeéting fig 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. — 149 


make you blefs God, for having given you a greater 
happinefs to afpire after. 

So that characters of this kind, the more folly and 
ridicule they have in them, provided that they be but 
natural, are moft ufeful to‘torreé&t our minds ; and there- 
fore are no where more proper than in books of devotion, 
and practical piety. And as in feveral cafes we-beft learn 
the nature of Mie: by looking at that which is con- 
trary to them ; fo perhaps we beft apprehend the excel- 
lency of wifdom, by contemplating the wild extrava- 
gances of folly. 

I fhall therefore continue this method a little far- 
ther, and endeavour to recommend the happinefs of 
piety to you; by fhewing you in fome other inftan- 
ces, how miferably and poorly they live, who live with- 
out it. 

But you will perhaps fay, that the ridiculous, reftlefs 

life of Flatus, is not the common ftate of thofe who re- 
fign themfelves up to live by their own humours, and 
neglect the ftrit rules of religion ; and that therefore it 
is not fo great an argument of the happinefs of a religious 
life, as I would make it. : 
-. Tanfwer, that I am afraid it is one of the moft gen- 
eral characters in life ; and that few people can read 
it, without feeing fomething in it that belongs to them- 
felves. For where fhall we find that wife and happy 
man, who has not been eagerly purfuing different ap- 
pearances of happinefs, fometimes thinking it was here, 
and fometimes there ? 

And if people were to divide their lives into particular 
ftages, and afk themfelves what they were purfuing, or 
what it was which they had chiefly in view, when they 
was twenty years old, what at twenty-five, what at thir- 

ty, what at forty, what at fifty, and fo on, till they were 
brought to their laft bed ; numbers of people would find, 
that they had liked and difliked, and purfued as many 
different appearances of happinefs, as are to be feen in 
the life of Flatus. 

__ And thus it muft neceflarily be, more or lefs with all 
_thefe who propofe any other happinefs, than that which 
_arifes from a ftri@ and regular piety. 

~~ But fecondly, Let it be granted, that the generality 


150 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


of people are not of fuch reftlefs, fickle tempers as Fla. 
tus ; the difference then is only this, Flatus is continually _ 
changing and trying fomething-new, but others are 
content with fome one ftate ; they do not leave gaming, 
and then fall to hunting. By: they have fo much ftea- 
dinefs in their tempers, that fome feek after no other 
happinefs, but that of heaping up riches; others grow 
old in the {ports of the field ; others are content to drink. 
themfelves to death, without the leaft j inquiry after any 
other happinefs. 

Now is there any thing more happy or reafonable, in 
fuch a life as this, than in the life of Flatus? Is it not 
as great and defirable, as wife and happy, to be conftantly 
changing from one thing to another, as to be nothing 
elie but a gatherer of money, a hunter, a gamefter, or 
a drunkard all your life ? 

Shall religion be looked upon’‘as a burden, as a dull 
and melancholy ftate,’ for calling men from fuch happie 
nefs as this, to live according to the laws of God, to 
labour after the perfection of their nature, and prepare 
themfelves for an endlefs ftate of joy and glory in the 
prefence of God ? 

But turn your eyes now another way, and let the 
trifling joys, the gewgaw happinefs of Feliciana, teach — 
you how wife they are, what delufion, they efcape, . 
whofe hearts and hopes are fixed upon an happinefs in — 
God. . 

If you was to live with Feliciana but one half year, 
you would fee all the happinefs. that fhe is to have as — 
long as fhe lives.. She has no more to come, but the — 
poor repetition of that which could never have pleafed — 
once, but through a littlenefs of mind, and want of — 
thought. 

She is again to be dreffed fine, and keep her vifiting 4 
day. She is again to change the colour of her clothes, 
again to have a new head, and again put patches on 
her face. She is again to fee who aéts beft at the play- 
houfe, and who fings fineft at the opera. She is again 
to make ten vifits in a day, and be ten times ina di 
trying to talk artfully, eafily and politely shanty noth 
ing. 

She is to be again delighted with ies 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1351 


- and again angry at the change of fome old one. She 
is to be again at cards, and gaming at midnight, and 
again in bed at noon. ~She is to be again pleafed with 
hypocritical compliments, and again difturbed with im- 

_aginary affronts. She is to be again pleafed with her 
good luck at gaming, and again tormented with the lofs 
of hermoney. She is again to prepare herfelf for a 
birth-night, and again fee the town full of good com- 
pany. She is again to bear the cabals and intrigues of 
the town, again to have fecret intelligence of private 
amours, and early notice of marriages, quarrels, and 
partings. 

If you fee her come out of her chariot more brifkly ~ 
than ufual, converfe with more fpirit, and feem fuller 
of joy than fhe was laft week, it is becaufe there is 
fome furprifing new drefs, or new diverfion juft come 
to town. : 

*Thefe are all the fubftantial and regular parts of Feli- 
Giana’s happinefs ; and fhe never knew a pleafant day 
in her life, but it was owing to fome one, or more, of 
thefe things. ck 

It is for this happinefs, that fhe has always been deaf 
to the reafonings of religion, that her heart has been 
too gay and cheerful to confider what is right or wrong 
in regard to eternity*; or to liften to the found of fuch 

_ dull words, as wifdom, piety and devotion. 

It is for fear of lofing fome of this happinefs, that 
fhe dares not meditate on the immortality of her foul, 
confider her relation to God, or turn her thoughts to- 

’ wards thofe joys, which make faints and angels infinitely 
happy in the prefence and glory of God. 

But now let it here be obferved, that as poor a round 
of happinefs as this appears, yet moft women that avoid _ 

| the reftraints of religion for a gay life, muft be content 
with very {mall parts of it. As they have not Feliciana’s 
fortune and figure in the world, fo they muft give away 

| the comforts of a pious life, for a very final part of her 

_ happineds. 

And if you look into the world, and obferve the lives 


z wholly unto God, in a wife and pious employment 
themfelves, you will find moft of them to be fuch, 


of thofe women, whom no arguments can perfuade to 


oe > 


ee 
5 


OR Gea ee ee 
152 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


as lofe all the comforts of religion, without gaining the 
tenth parth of Feliciana’s happinefs. They are fuch 
as {pend their time and fortunes only in mimicking the 
pleafures of richer people ; and rather look and long af- 
ter, than enjoy thofe delufions, which are only to be pur- 
chafed by confiderable fortunes, 

But if a woman of high birth, and great fortune, hav- 
ing read the gofpel, fhould rather wifh to be an under — 

_fervant in fome pious family, where wifdom, piety, and 
great devotion, direCted all the aGtions of every. day: if 
fhe fhould rather with this, than to live at the top of Fe- 
liciana’s happinefs : I fhould think her neither mad, nor 
melancholy ; but that fhe judged as rightly of the fpirit 
of the gofpel, as if fhe had rather wifhed to be poor Laz- 
arus at the gate, than to be the rich man clothed in purple 
and fine linen, and faring fumptuoufly every day. 

But to proceed : Would you know what an happinefs 
it is, to be governed by the wifdom of religion, and be 
devoted to the joys and hopes of a pious life, look at the 
poor condition of Succus, whofe greateft happinefs, is a 
good night’s reft in bed, and a good meal when he is up, — 
When he talks of happinefs, it is always in fuch expref- 
fions, as fhews you, that he has only his bed and his din- 
ner in his thoughts. 

This regard to his meals and repofe, makes Succus 
order all the reft of his time with relation to them. He 
will undertake no bufinefs that may hurry his fpirits, or 
break in upon his hours of eating and reft. If he reads, 
it fhall only be for half an hour, becaufe that is fufficient ; 
to amufe the fpirits ; and he will read fomething that 
may make him laugh, as rendering the body fitter for its” 
food and reft. Or if he has at any time a mind to in-— 
dulge a grave thought, he always has recourfe to a ufes 
ful treatife upon the ancient cookery. Succus is an ene 
emy to all party matters, having made it an obfervation, ~ 
that there is as good eating amongft the whigs. as_ the, 
tories. 

He talks coolly and moderately upon all fubjeGs, 
is as fearful of falling into a paffion, as of catching col 
being very pofitive; that they are both equally i 
to the ftomach. If you ever fee him more hot 

dinary, as is upon fome provoking oceafion 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 153 


difpute about cookery runs very high, or in the defence 
of fome beloved difh, which has often made him happy. 
But he has been fo long upon thefe fubje&s, is fo well 
acquainted with all that can be faid on both fides, and 
has fo often anfwered all objeCtions, that he generally 
decides the matter with great gravity. 

Succus is very loyal, and as foon as ever he likes any 
wine, he drinks the king’s health with all his heart. 
Nothing could put rebellious thoughts into his head, un- 
lefs he fhould live to fee a proclamation againft eating of 
pheafant’s eggs. 

All the hours that are not devoted either to repofe, or 
nourifhment, are looked upon by Succus as wafte or fpare 
time. For this reafon he lodges near a coffee-houfe and 
a tavern, that when he rfes in the morning, he may hear 
the news, and when he parts at night, he may not 
have far to bed. In the morning you always fee him in 
the fame place in the coffee-room, and if he feems more 
attentively engaged than ordinary, it is becaufe fome 
criminal is broke out of Newgate, or fome lady was rob- 
bed laft night, but they cannot tell where. When he 
has learned all that he can, he goes home to fettle the 
matter with the barber’s boy, that comes to fhave him. 

The next wafte time that lies upon his hands, is from 
dinner to fupper. And if melancholy thoughts ever 
‘come into his head, it is at this time, when he is often 
left to himfelf for an hour or more, and that after the 
greateft pleafure he knows is juft over. He is afraid to 
fleep, becaufe he has heard it is not healthful at that 
time, fo that he is forced to refufe fo welcome a gueft. 

But here he is foon relieved by a fettled method of 
playing at cards, till it is time to think of fome little nice 
matter for fupper. 

After this, Succus takes his glafs, talks of the excel- 
lency of the Englith conititution, and praifes that minif- 
ter the moft, who keeps the beft table. 

On a Sunday night you may fometimes hear him con- 
-demning the iniquity of the town rakes ; and the bittereft 
thing that he fays againft them, is this, that he verily 
“believes fome of them are fo abandoned, as’ not to have 

“a regular meal, or a found night’s fleep in a week. 


i 4 At eleven, Succus bids all good night, and pass in 


Se So 


154 A SERIOUS CALL TO A x4 


great friendfhip. _ He is prefently in bed, and fleeps till 
it 1s time to go to the coffee-houfe next morning. 

If you was to live with Succus for a twelvemonth, this 
is all that you would fee in his life, except a few eurtes 
and oaths that he ufes as occafion offers. 

And now I.cannot help making this refleétion : 

That as I believe the moft likely means in the world 
to infpire a perfon with true piety, was to have feen the 
example of fome eminent profeflor of religion ; fo the 
next thing that is likely to fill one with the fame zeal, is 
to fee the folly, the bafenefs, and poor fatisfaétions of a 
life deftitute of religion. As the one exercifes us to love 
and admire the wifdom and greatnefs of religion, fo the 
other may make us fearful of living without it. 

For who can help bleffling God for the means of grace, 
and for the hope of glory, when he fees what variety of 
folly they fink into, who live without it ? Who would 
not heartily engage in all the labours and exercifes of a 
pious life, be fteadfaft, immoveable, and always abounding 
in the work of the Lord; when he fees what dull fenfu- 
ality, what poor views, what grofs enjoyments they are 
left to who feek for happinefs in other ways. : 

So that whether we confider the greatnefs of religion, 
or the littlenefs of all other things, and the meannels of 
all other enjoyments, there is nothing to be found in the 
whole nature of things for a thoughtful mind to reft 7 
on, but a happinefs in the hopes of religion. 

Confider now with yourfelf how unreafonably it 
pretended, that a life of ftri&t piety muft be a dull, ‘al 
axious ftate ? For can it with-any reafon be faid, that 
the duties and reftraints of religion muff render our lives 
heavy and melancholy, when they only deprive us of fuch 
happinefs, as has been here laid before you ? iol 

Mutt it be tedious and tirefome to live in the continua 
exercife of charity, devotion and temperance, to act 
wifely and virtuoufly, to do good to the utmoft of yo 
power, to imitate the divine perfeétions, and 
yourfelf for the enjoyment of God ? Muftit be ¢ 
tirefome, to be delivered from blindnefs and vane 
falfe hopes and vain fears, to improve in holinefs, 
the comforts of confcience in all your actions, 
that God is your friend, that all muft work 


— nC 
‘DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 158 


good, that neither life nor death, neither men nor devils 

can do you any harm ; but that all your fufferings and 

doings, that are offered unto God, all your watchings 

and prayers, and labours of love and charity, all your im- 

provements, are in a fhort time to be rewarded with 

everlafting glory in the prefence of God; muft fuch a 

ftate as this be dull and tirefome for want of fuch hap- 

pinefs, as Flatus or Feliciana enjoys ? 

Now if this cannot be faid, then there is no happinefs 
or pleafure loft, by being ftri€tly pious, nor has the de- 
yout man any thing to envy in any other ftate of life. 
For all the art and contrivance in the world, without 
religion, cannot make more of human life, or carry its 
happinefs to any greater height, than Flatus or Feliciana 
have done. 

The fineft wit, the greateft genius upon earth, if not 
governed by religion, muft be as foolifh, and low, and 
vain in his methods of happinefs, as the poor Succus. 

If you was to feea man dully endeavouring all his 
life to fatisfy his thirft, by holding up one and the fame 

, empty cup to his mouth, you would certainly defpife his 
ignorance. 

But if you fhould fee others of brighter parts, and 
finer underitandings, ridiculing the dull fatisfaGtion of 
one cup, and thinking to fatisty their own thirft by a 

_ wariety of gilt and golden empty cups ; would you think 
| that thefe were ever the wifer, or happier, or better em- 
ployed, for their finer parts ? 

Now this is all the difference that you can fee in the 
happinefs of this life. 

The dull and heavy foul may be content with one 
empty appearance of happinefs, and be continually try- 
ing to held one and the fame empty cup to his mouth 
all his life. But then, let the wit, the great {cholar, the 
fine genius, the great ftatefman, the polite gentleman, 
lay all their heads together, and they can only fhew you 
more and various, empty appearances of happinefs ; give 
them all the world into their hands, let them cut and 
carve as they pleafe, they can only make a greater variety 
of empty cups. ; 

So that if you do not think it hard-to be deprived of 
| the pleafures of gluttony for the fake of religion, you 
aan re) : 


———— 


_ 7 Pie a. A ee a 
156 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


have no reafon to think it hard to be reftrained from any 
other worldly pleafure. For fearch as deep, and look as 
far as you will, there is nothing here to be found, that 
is nobler or greater than high eating and drinking, un- 
lefs you look for it in the wifdom and laws of relig- 
jon. 

_ And if all that is in the world, are only fo many emp- 
ty cups, what does it fignify, which you take, or how 
many you take, or how many you have ? 

If you would but ufe yourfelf to fuch meditations as 
thefe, to refle&t upon the vanity of all orders of life with- 
out piety, to confider how all the ways of the world, 
are fo many different ways or error, blindnefs, and mif- 
take,; you would foon find your heart made wifer and 
better by it. Thefe meditations would awaken your * 
foul into a zealous defire of that folid happinefs, which 
is only to be found in recourfe to God. - 

Examples of great piety are not now common in the 
world, it may not be your happinefs to live within fight 
of any, or to have your virtue inflamed by their light 
and fervour. But the mifery and folly of worldly men 7 
is what meets your eyes in every place, and you need * 
not look far to fee, how poorly, how vainly men dream | 
away their lives for want of religious wifdom. 

This is the reafon that I have laid before you fo many _ 
charaéters of the vanity of a worldly life, to teach you 
to make a benefit of the corruption of the age, and that — 
you may be made wife, though not by the fight of what — 
piety is, yet by feeing what mifery and folly reigns, — 
where piety is not. 4 

If you would turn your mind to fuch refle€&tions as 
thefe, your own obfervation would carry this inftru@tion 
much farther, and all your converfation and acquaint- 
ance with the world, would be a daily conviétion to you, 
of the neceflity of feckdogs fome greater happinefs, than 
all the poor enjoyments this world can give. ‘3 

To meditate upon the perfe€tion of the divine 
butes, to contemplate the glories of heaven, to ¢ 
the joys of faints and angels living for ever in the 
nefs and glory of the divine prefence ; thefe are th 
itations of fouls advanced in piety, and net fice v 
every capacity. : 


: 
. 
I 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 157 


But to fee and confider the emptinefs and error of all 
worldly happinefs ; to fee the groflnefs of fenfuality, the 
poornefs of pride, the ftupidity of covetoufnefs, the van- 
ity of drefs, the delufion of honour, the blindnefs of our 

flions, the uncertainty of our lives, and the fhortnefs 
of all worldly projects ; thefe are meditations that are 
fuited to all capacities, fitted to ftrike all minds ; they 
require no depth of thought to fublime fpeculation, but 
are forced upon us by all our fenfes, and taught us by 
almoft every thing that we fee and hear. 

This is that wifdom that crieth, and 
putteth forth her voice in the Jfrreets, that Prov. viii. 1; 
ftandeth at all our doors, that appealeth 
to all our fenfes, teaching us in every thing and every 
where, by all that we fee, and-all that we hear, by births 
and burials, by ficknefs and health, by life and death, by 
pains and poverty, by mifery and vanity, and by all the 
changes and chances of life ; that there is nothing elfe 
for man to look after, no other end in nature for him 
to drive at, but a happinefs which is only to be found in 
the hopes and expectations of religion. 


te 
CHAP. XIII. 


That not only a life of vanity, or fenfuality, but even the moft 

- regular kind of life, that is not governed by great devo- 

tion, fufficiently fbews its miferies, its wants, and empti- 

* nefs, to the eyes of all the world. This reprefented in 
various charaéters. 


f IT is a very remarkable faying of our Lord and 
Saviour to his difciples in thefe words : Bleed are your 
eyes for they fee, and your ears for they hear. They teach 
us two things ; Firft, that the dulnefs and heavinefs of 
men’s minds, with regard to fpiritual matters, is fo great, 
i it may juftly be compared to the want of eyes and 
ears. 
Secondly, that God has fo filled every thing and 

_ every place with motives and arguments for a godly life, 


1358 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


that they who are but fo bleffed, fo happy as to ufe their 
eyes and their ears, muft needs be affeéted with them. 

‘Now, though this was in a more efpecial manner the 
cafe of thofe whofe fenfes were witnefles of the life and 
miracles and doftrines of our bleffed Lord ; yet it is as. 
truly the cafe of all Chriftians at this time. For the 
reafons of religion, the calls to piety are fo written and 
engraved upon every thing, and prefent themfelves fo 
ftrongly and fo conftantly to all our fenfes in every thing 
that we meet ; that they can only be difregarded by eyes 
that fee not, antl ears that hear not. 

What greater motive to a religious life, than the van- 
ity, the poornefs of all worldly enjoyments ; and yet who 
van help feeing and feeling this every day of his life ? 

What greater call to look towards God, than the 
pains, the ficknefs, the croffes, and vexations of this life 5 
and yet whofe eyes and ears are not daily witnefles of 
them ! 

What miracles eal more ftrongly appeal to our 
fenfes, dr what meflage from heaven fpeak louder to us, 
than the daily dying and departure of our fellow-crea- — 
tures does ? 

So that the one thing needful, or the great end of life, — 
is not left to be difcovered by fine reafoning, and deep 
refleGtions ; but is prefled upon us in the plaineft man- , 
ner, by the experience of all our fenfes, by vf thing ; 
that we meet with in life. ; 

Let us but intend to fee and hear, and then the whole i 
world becomes a book of wifdom and inftru€tion to us 


‘all that is regular in the order of nature, all that is ac- — 


cidental in the courfe of things, all the miftakes and dif- _ 
appointments that happens to ourfelves, all the miferies ~ 
and errors that we fee in other people, become fo many ~ 
plain leffons of advice to us; teaching us with as much 
affurance as an angel from heaven, that we can no w 
raile ourfelves to any true happinefs, but by turning all 
our thoughts, our wifhes, and endeavours, after the hap- — 
pinefs of another life. i 
It is this right ufe of the world that I tend lead you — 
into, by direting you to turn your eyes upon 
fhape of human side that you may eae ae 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 159 


arguments and motives of living to the beft and greateft 
purpofes of your creation. 

And if you would but carry this intention about you, 
of profiting by the follies of the world, and of learning 
the greatnefs of religion, from the littlenefs and vanity 
of every other way of life ; if, I fay, you would but carry 
this intention in your mind, you would find every day, 
every place, and every perfon, a frefh proof of their wil- 
dom, who clioofe to live wholly unto God. You would 
then often return home, the wifer, the better, and the 
more ftrengthened in religion, by every thing that has 
fallen in your way. 

OGavius is a learned, ingenious man, well verfed in 
moft parts of literature, and no ftranger to any kingdom 
in Europe. The other day, being juft recovered froma 
lingering fever, he took upon him to talk thus to his 
friends. 

‘My glafs, fays he, is almoft run out ; and your eyes 
fee how many marks of age and death I bear about me: 
but I plainly feel myfelf finking away fafter than any 
ftanders-by imagine. I fully believe, that one year more 
will conclude my reckoning. 

The attention of his friends was much raifed by fuch 
a declaration, expecting to hear fomething truly excel- 
lent from fo learned a man, who had but a year longer 
to live. When O@avius proceeded in this manner : 
for thefe reafons, fays he, my friends, I have left off all 
taverns, the wine of thofe places is not good enough for 
me in this decay of nature. I muft now be nice in what 
I drink ; I can’t pretend to do as I have done ; and there- 
fore am refolved to furnifh my own cellar with a little 
of the very beit, though it coft me ever fo much. 

I mut alfo tell you, my friends, that age forces a 
man to be wife in many other refpe&s, and makes us 
change many of our opinions and pra€tices. : 

You know how much [I have liked a large acquaint- 
ance: I now co demn it as an error. Three or four 
cheerful, diverting companions, is all that I now defire ; 
becaufe I find that in my prefent infirmities, if I am left 

alone, or to grave company, I am not fo eafy to my- 


P A few days after O@avivs. had made thm ducivetoan, 
} r oO 2 nw , 


160 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


to his friends, he relapfed into his former illnefs, was 
committed to a nurfe, who clofed his eyes before his frefh” 
parcel of wine came in. q 

Young Eugenius, who was prefent at this difcourfe, 
went home a new man, with full refolutions of devoting 
himfelf. wholly unto God. 

I never, fays Eugenius, was fo deeply affected with 
the wifdom and importance of religion, as when I faw 
how poorly and meanly the learned OGavius was to leave’ 
the world through the want of it. 

How often had I envied his great learning, his fkill in 
language, his knowledge of antiquity, his addrefs, and 
fine manner of exprefling himfelf upon all fubjeé&ts ! But 
when I faw how poorly it all ended, what was to be the 
laft year of fuch a life, and how foolifhly the mafter of 
all thefe accomplifhments was then forced to talk, for 
want of being acquainted with the joys and expeCtations — 
of piety : I was thoroughly convinced, that there was 
nothing to be envied or defired, but a life of true piety: 
nor any thing fo poor and comfortlefs, as a death with- 
out it. +4 

_ Now as the young Eugenius was thus edified and in- _ 
ftruGied in the prefent cafe ; fo if you are fo happy as to” 
have any thing of his thoughtful temper, you will meet 
with variety of inftru€tion of this kind ; you will find” F 
that arguments for the wifdom and happinefs of a ftri& 
piety, offer themfelves in all places, and appeal to } 
your fenfes in the plaineft manner. 4 


You will find, that all the world preaches to an at. 


al i 
a 


tentive mind ; and that if you have but ears to hear, al- } 
moft every thing you meet, teaches you fome leffon of — 
wildom. ay 
But now, if to thefe admonitions and inftru€tions, — 
which we receive from our fenfes, from an experience’ 
of the ftate of human life ; if to thefe we add the hig 
of religion, thofe great truths which the Son of God 
taught us ; it will be then as much paft all doubt, 
there is but one happinefs for man, as that there is 
ene God. OREM ku 
For fince” religion teaches us that our fouls are 
mortal,. that piety and devotion will carry the 
eternal enjoyment ef God ; and that earnal, 


} 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 161 


tempers will fink them into an everlafting mifery with 
damned fpirits ; what grofs nonfenfe and ftupidity is it 
to give the name of joy or happinefs to any thing but 
that which carries us to this joy and happinefs in God ? 

_ Was all to die with our bodies, there might be fome 
pretence for thofe different forts of happinefs, that are 
fo much talked of : but fince our all begins at the death 
of our bodies ; fince all men are to be immortal either 
in mifery or happinefs, in a world entirely different from 
this ; fince they are all haftering hence at all uncertain- 
ties, as faft as death can cut them down ; fome in fick- 
nefs, fome in health, fome fleeping, fome waking, fome 
at midnight, others at cock-crowing, and all at hours 
that they know not of; is it not certain that no man 
can exceed another in joy and happinefs, but fo far as he 
exceeds him in thofe virtues which fit him for a happier 
death ? 

Cognatus is a fober, regular clergyman, of good re- 
pute in the world, and well efteemed in his parifh. All 
his parifhioners fay he is an honeft man, and very notable 
at making a bargain. ‘The farmers liften to him with- 
great attention, when he talks of the propereft time of 
felling corn. 4 

He has been for twenty years a diligent obferver of 
markets, and has raifed a confiderable fortune by good 
management. : 

Cognatus is very orthodox and full of efteem for our 
Englifh Liturgy ; and if he has not prayers on Wednef- 
days and Fridays, it is becaufe his predeceffor had. not 
ufed the parifh to any fuch cuftom. 

As he cannot ferve both his livings himfelf, fo he 
makes it matter of confcience to keep a fober curate 


_ wpon one of them, whom he hires to take care of all 


the fouls in the parifh, at as cheap a rate as a fober man 
can be procured. ° 

Cognatus has been very profperous all his time ; but 
ftill he has had the uneafinefs and vexations that they 
have, who are deep in worldly bufinefs. Taxes, loffes, 
croffes, bad mortgages, bad tenants, and the hardnefs of 


the times, are frequent fubjeéts of his converfation ; and 


2 good or a bad feafon has a great effe& upon his fpirits, 
~-Cognatus has no other end in growing rich, but that 


162 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


he may leave a confiderable fortune to a niece, whom 
he has politely educated in expenfive finery, by what he ~ 
has faved out of the tythes of two livings. : | 

The neighbours look upon Cognatus as an happy 
clergyman, becaufe they fee him (as they call it) in 
good circumftances ; and fome of them intend to ‘dedi- 
cate their own fons to the church, becaufe they fee how 
well it has fucceeded with Cognatus, whofe father was 
but an ordinary man. ; 

But now if Cognatus when he firft entered into holy 
orders, had perceived how abfurd a thing it is to grow 
' rich by the gofpel: if he had propofed to himfelf the 
example of fome primitive father ; if he had had the 
piety of the great St. Auftin in his eye, who durft not 
enrich any of his relations out of the revenue of the 
church : if, inftead of twenty years care to lay up treaf- 
ures upon earth, he had diftributed the income of every 
year in the moft Chriftian a&ts of charity and compaf- — 
fion. ‘2 

If, inftead of tempting his niece to be proud, and pro- — 
viding her with fuch ornaments, as the Apoftle forbids, — 
he had clothed, comforted, and affifted numbers of — 
widows, orphans, and diftreffed, who were all to appear J 
for him at the laft day. > 


If, inftead of the cares and anxieties of bad sae 


troublefome mortgages and ill bargains, he had had the — 
conftant comfort of knowing that his treafure was fe- — 
curely laid up, where neither moth corrupteth, nor — 
thieves break through and fteal ; could it with any rea~ — 
fon be faid, that he had miftaken the fpirit and dignity — 
of his order, or leffened any of that happinefs which is — 
to be found in his facred employments ? ‘ 

If, inftead of rejoicing in the happmefs of a fecond © 
living, he had thought it as unbecoming the office mi 
clergyman to traflic for gain in holy things, as to open 
a fhop. ~. 

If he had thought it better to recommend fome he 
labour to his niece, than to fupport her in idlenefi 
the labours of a curate ; better that fhe fhould want 
clothes and a rich hufband, than the cures of fouls fh 
be farmed about, and brother clergymen not. 
live by thofe altars, at which they ferve. I 


BEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 168 


" been the fpirit of Cognatus, could it with any reafon be 

* faid, that thefe rules of religion, this itri€inefs of piety, 
had robbed Cognatus of any real happinefs ? Could it 
be faid, that a life thus governed by the fpirit of the 
gofpel, muft be dull and melancholy, if compared to 
that of raifing a fortune for a niece ? 

Now as this cannot be faid in the prefent cafe, fo in 
every other kind of life, if you enter into the particulars 
of it, you will find, that however eafy and profperous it 
may feem, yet you cannot add piety to any part of it, 
without adding fo much of a better joy and happinefs 
to it. 

Look now at that condition of life, which draws the 
envy of all eyes, 

Negotius is a temperate honeft man. He ferved his 
time under a mafter of great trade, but has by his own 
management made it a more confiderzble bufinefs than 
eyer it was before. For thirty years laft paft, he has 
wrote fifty or fixty letters in a week, and is bufy in cor- 
refponding with all parts of Europe. The general good 
of trade feems to Negotius to be the general good of 
life ; whomfoever He admires, whatever he commends or 
condemns, either in church or ftate, is admired, com- 
mended, or condemned, with fome regard to trade. 

As money is continually pouring in upon him, fo he 
often lets it go in various kinds of expenfe and generof- 
ity, and fometimes in ways of charity. 

Negotius is always ready to join in any public con- 
tribution : if a purfe is making at any place where he 
happens to be, whether it be to buy a plate for a horfe- 
race, or to redeem a prifoner out of jail, you are always 
fure of having fomething from him. 

He has given a fine ring of bells to a church in the 
country : and there is much expeétation that he will 
fome time or other make a more beautiful front to the 
market-houfe, than has been feen in any place. For it 
is the generous fpirit of Negotius to do nothing in a 
mean way. 

If you afk what it is, that has fecured Negotius from 
all fcandalous vices, it is the fame thing that has kept 

him from all ftriGinefs of devotion, it is his great bufinefs. 
| He has always had too many important things in his 
y 


164 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


head, his thoughts have been too much employed to — 
fuffer him to fall either into any courfes of rakery, or to 
feel the neceffity of an inward, folid piety. 

For this reafon he hears of the pleafures of debauch- 
ery, and the pleafures of piety, with the fame indiffer- 
ence ; and has no more defire of living in the one than 
in the other, becaufe neither of them confift with that 
turn of mind and multiplicity of bufinefs, which are his | 
happinefs. 

If Negotius was afked, what it is that he drives at in 
life ? he would be as much at a lofs for an anfwer, as if 
he was afked, what any other perfon is thinking of. 
For though he always feems to himfelf to know what 
he is doing, and has many things in his head, which are 
the motives of his aétions ; yet he cannot tell you of 
any one general end of life, that he has chofen with de- 
liberation, as being truly worthy of all his labour: and 

ains. 

He has feveral confufed notions in his head, which — 
have been a long time there ; fuch as thefe, viz. T 
it is fomething great to have more bufinefs than othe 
people, to have more dealings upon his hands than an 
hundred of the fame profeflion ; to grow continuall 
richer and richer, and to raife an immenfe fortune befor 
he dies. The thing that feems to give Negotius the 
greateft life and {pirit, and to be molt in his thoughts, 
is an expe€tation that he fhall die richer than any of his 
bufinefs ever did. ’ 

The generality of people, when they think of happi- 
nefs, think upon Negotius, in whofe life every inftance — 
ef happinefs is fuppofed to meet ; fober, prudent, rich, 
profperous, generous, and chetitable, 

Let us now therefore look at this condition in an= 
other but truer light. a 

Let it be fuppofed, that this fame Negotius was a 
painful, laborious man, every day deep in variety of me 
fairs ; that he neither drank nor debauched, 
fober and regular in his bufinefs. Let it be fuppof 
he grew old in this courfe of trading ; and that t 
and defign of all this labour, and care and a 
bufinefs, was only this, that he might ned i 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 165 


more than an hundred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs, 
and as many great coats. 

Let it be fuppofed, that the fober part of the world 
fay of -him when he is dead, that he was a great and 
happy man, a thorough mafter of bufinefs, and had ac- 
quired an hundred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs 
when he died. . 

Now if this was really the cafe, I believe it would be 
readily granted, that a life of fuch bufinefs was as poor 
and ridiculous as any that can be invented. But it would 
puzzle any one to fhew, that a man that has fpent all 
his time and thoughts in, bufinefs and hurry, that he 
might die, as it is faid, worth an hundred thoufand 
pounds, is any whit wifer than he, who has taken the 
fame pains to have as many pair of boots and fpurs when 
he leaves the world. 

_ For if the temper and ftate of our fouls be our whole 
ftate ; if the only.end of life be to die as free from fin, 
and as exalted in virtue as we can; if naked as we came, 
o naked are we to return, and to ftand a trial before 
Chrift, and his holy angels, for everlafting happinefs or 
mifery ; what can it poflibly fignify what a man had, or 
_ shad not, in this world? What can it fignify what you 
_ call thofe things which a man has left behind him ; 
_ whether you call them his, or any one’s elfe ; whether you 
| call them trees or fields, or birds and feathers+; whether 
you call them an hundred thoufand pounds, oran hun- 
| dred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs? I fay, calbthem ; 
| for the things fignify no more to him than the names. 
Now it is eafy to fee the folly of a life thus fpent, to 
, furnifh a man with fuch a number of boots and fpurs. 
But yet there needs no better faculty of feeing, no finer 
| underftanding, to fee the folly of a life {pent in making 
| aman a poffeffor of ten towns before he dies. 
For if when he has got all his towns, or all his boots, 
_ his foul is to go to his own place among feparate fpirits, 
| and his body be laid by in a coffin, till the laft trum- 
| pet calls him to judgment ; where the inquiry will be, how 
| humbly, how devoutly, how purely, how meekly, how 
pioufly, how charitably, how heavenly we have fpoke, 
ght and aéted, whilit we were in the body ; how can 
_ we fay, that he who has wore out his life in raifing an 


i 


aes 


166 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


hundred thoufand pounds, has a€ted wifer for himfelf, 
than he who has had the fame cdre to procure an hun- 
dred thoufand of any thing elfe ? . 

But farther: Let it now be fappofed, that Macotines 
when he firft entered into bufinefs, happening to read 
the gofpel with attention, and eyes open, found that he 
had a much greater bufinefs upon his hands, than that 
to which he had ferved an apprenticefhip : that there 
were things which belong to man of much greater im- 
portance than all that our eyes can fee ; fo glorious, as 
to deferve all our thoughts ; fo dangerous, as to need all 
our care; and fo certain, as never to deceive the faithful 
labourer, 

Let it be fuppofed, that from reading this book, he 
had difcovered that his foul was more to him than his 
body ; that it was better to grow in the, virtues of the 
foul, than to have a large body or a full ‘purfe ; 3 that it 
was better to be fit for heaven, than to have a variety of © 
fine houfes upon the earth ; that it was better to fecure 
an everlafting happinefs, than to have plenty of things — 
which he cannot keep ; better to live in habits of humil-— 
ity, piety, devotion, charity, and felf-denial, than to” it 
die unprepared for judgment ; better to be moft like 
our Saviour, or fome eminent faint, than to excel all | 
the tradefmen in the world, in bufinefs and bulk of “| 
tune. 

Let it be fuppofed, that Negotius believing thefe 
things to be true, entirely devoted himfelf to God at his 
firft fetting out in the world, refolying to purfue his bufi- 
nefs no farther than was confiftent with great devotion, 
humility, and felf-denial ; and for no other ends, but 
provide himfelf with a fober fubfiftence, and to do a 
the good that he could, to the fouls and bodies off his 
fellow-creatures. FI 

Let it therefore be fuppofed, that inftead of the con- 
tinual hurry of bufinefs, he was frequent in his 
ments, and a {trict obferver of all the hours of ra 
that inftead of reftlefs defires after more riches, hi 
had been full of the love of God and heavenly a 
conftantly watching againft worldly tempers, a 
ways afpiring after divine grace ; that inftead o: 
cares aud a a he was bufy in fo 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 167 


foul aganift all approaches of fin ; that inftead of coftly 
thew and expenfive generofity of a {plendid life, he 
loved and exercifed all inftances of humility and lowli- 
nefs ; that inftead of great treats and full tables, his 
houfe only furnifhed a fober refrefhment to thofe that 
wanted it. 

Let it be fuppofed, that his contentment kept him 
free from all kinds of envy. That his piety made him 
thankful to God in all croffes and difappointments. 
That his charity kept him from being rich, by a con- 
tinual deftribution to all objeéts of compaffion. 

Now had this been the Chriitian fpirit of Negotius, 
can any one fay, that he had loft the true joy and hap- 
pinefs of life, by thus conforming to the fpirit, and living 
up to the hopes of the Gofpel. 

Can it be faid, that a life made exemplary by fuch 
virtues as thefe, which Keep heaven always in our fight, 
which both delight and exalt the foul here, and prepare 
it for the prefence of God hereafter, muft be poor and 
dull, if compared to that of heaping up riches, which 
can neither flay with us, nor we with them ? 

It would be endlefs to multiply examples of this kind, 
to thew you how little is loft, aod how much is gained, 
by introducing a ftri and exa& piety into every con- 
dition of human life. 

I fhall now therefore leave it to your own meditation, 
to carry this way of thinking farther, hoping that you 
are enough directed by what is here faid, to convince 
yourfelf, that a true and exalted piety is fo far from 
‘rendering any Life dull and tirefome, that it is the only 
joy and happinefs of every condition in the world. 

_ Imagine to yourfelf fome perfon in a confumption, 
or any other lingering diftemper that was incurable. 
__ If you was to fee fuch a man wholly intent upon do- 
ing every thing in the fpirit of religion, making the 
wifeft ufe of all his time, fortune, and abilities. If he 
was for catrying every duty of piety to its greateft 
height, and ftriving to have all the advantage that could 
be had from the remainder of his life. If he avoided 
all bufinefs, but fuch as was neceflary ; if he was averfe 
‘to all the follies and vanities of the world, had no taife 
a 


finery and thew, but fought for all his comfort in the 
\ Pp - 


168 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


hopes and expeétations of religion ; you would certain- 
ly commend his prudence, you would fay, that he had 
taken the right method to make himfelf as joyful and 
happy, as any one can be in a fate of fuch infirmity. 

Ou the other hand, if you fhould fee the fame per- 
fon, with trembling hands, fhort breath, thin jaws, and 
hollow eyes, wholly intent upon bufinefs and bargains, 
as long as he could fpeak. If you fhould fee him pleaf- 
ed with fine clothes, when he could fearce ftand to be 
dreffed, and laying out his money in horfes and dogs, 
rather than purchafe the prayers of the poor for his 
foul, which was fo foon to be feparated from his body, 
you would certainly condemn him, as a weak, filly man. 

Now as it is eafy to fee the reafonablenefs, the wifdom 
and happinefs of a religious fpirit in a confumptive man 5 
fo if you purfue the fame way of thinking, you will as 
eafily perceive the fame wifdom and happinefs of a pious 
temper in every other ftate of life. “4 ; 

For how foon will every man that is in health, be in — 
the {tate of him that is in a confumption ? How foon , 
will he want all the fame comforts and fatisfa€tions of 
religion, which every dying man wants ; 5 | 

And if it be wife and happy to live pioufly, becaule 
we have not above a year to live, is it not being more 
wife, and making ourfelves more happy, becaufe we 
may have more years to come ? If one year of piety be- 
fore we die, is fo defirable, is not more years of piety { 
much more defirable ? Ve) 

If a man had five fixed years to live, he could not 
poffibly think at all, without intending to make the beft 
ufe of them all. When he faw his ftay fo fhort in this 
world, he muft needs think that this was not a world 
for him; and when he faw how near he was to a = 
ther world, that was eternal, he muft furely think i 
very neceffary to be very diligent in preparing himfelf 
for it. si a 

Now as reasonable as piety appears in’fuch a cir 
ftance of life, it is yet more reafonable in every ¢ 
ftance of life, to every thinking man. | wt: 

For who but a madman can reckon that ‘he h 
years certain to come ? Bac 


And if it be reafonable and neceflary to 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1é9 


worldly tempers, and live wholly unto God, becaufe we 
are certain that we are to die at the end of five years ; 
furely it muft be more reafonable and neceffary for us to 
live in the fame fpirit, hecaufe we have no certainty that 
we fhall live five weeks. 

Again, if we were to add twenty years to the five, 
which is in all probability more than will be ‘added to 
the lives of many people who are at man’s eftate ; what 
a poor thing is this !_ how {mall a difference is there be- 
tween five and twenty-five years ? 

It is faid, that a day is with God as a thoufand years, 
and a thoufand years as one day ; becaufe, in regard to 
shis eternity, this difference is as nothing. 

» Now as we are all created to be eternal, to live in an 
endlefs fucceffion of ages upon ages, where thoufands, 
and millions of thoufands of years will have no propor- 
tion to our everlafting life in God ; fo with regard to 
this eternal ftate, which is our real ftate, twenty-five 
years is as poor a pittance as twenty-five days. 

Now we can never make any true judgment of time 
as it relates to us, without confidering the true ftate of 
our duration. If we are temporary beings, then a little 
time may juftly be called a great deal in relation to us ; 
but if we are eternal beings, then the difference of a few 
years is as nothing. 

If we were to fuppofe three different forts of rational 
beings, all of different but fixed duration, one fort that 
lived certainly only a month, the other a year, and the 
third an hundred years. 

_ Now if thefe things were to meet together, and talk 
about time, they muft talk in a very different language ; 
half an hour to thofe that were to live but a month, muft 
bea very different thing, to what it is to thofe who are 
to live an hundred years. 
As therefore time is thus a different thing with regard 
to the flate of thofe who enjoy it, fo if we would know 
_ what time is with regard to ourfelves, we muft confider 
our ftate. 
) Now fince our eternal ftate is as certainly ours, as 
our prefent flate ; fince we are as certainly to live for 
| €ver, as we now live at all; it is plain that we cannot 
| Judge of the value of any particular time, abs to us, but 


y 


Mekal oe. >, “uicaiins ile > 


_ 170 “A SERIOUS CALL TO A - 


by comparing it to that eternal duration for which we 
are created. 3 

If you would know, what five years fignify to a being 
that was to live an hundred, you muft compare five to 
an hundred, and fee what proportion it bears to it, and 
then you will judge right. 

So if you would know what twenty years fignify to a 
fon of Adam, you muft compare it, not to a million of 
ages, but an eternal duration, to which no number of — 
millions bears any proportion ; and then you will judge 
right by finding nothing. 

Confider therefore this ; how would you condemn the 
folly of a man, that fhould lofe his fhare of future glory, — 
for the fake of being rich, or great, or praifed, or d 
lighted in any enjoyment, only one poor day before he 
was to die ! 

But if the time will come, when a number of years 
will feem lefs to every one, than a day does now ; what — 
a condemnation muft it then be, if eternal happinefs — 
fhould appear to be loft, for fomething lefs than the en- " 
joyment ofa day ! igh 

Why does a day feem a trifle to us now? It is be- 
caufe we have years to fet againft it. It is the dura- ~ 
tion of years that makes it appear as nothing. ¥ 

What a trifle therefore muft the years of a man’s age 
appear, when they are forced to be fet againft eternity, 
when there fhall be nothing but eternity to compare 
them with ! Rie 

Now this will be the cafe of every man, as foon as ~ 
he is out of the body ; he will be forced to forget the 
diftin@tions of days and years, and to meafure time,” 
not by the courfe of the fun, by fetting it againft eter- 
nity. mn is 
As the fixed ftars, by reafon of our being placed at 
{uch diftance from them, appear but as fo many poin 
fo when we are placed in eternity, fhall look back 
all time, it will all appear but as a moment. “a 

Then a luxury, an indulgence, a profperity, a 
nefs, of fifty years, will feem to every one th 
back upon it, as the fame poor fhort enjoymen 
had been f{natched away in his firft fin. 

Thefe few refleGions upon time, are only 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 171 


how poorly they think, how miferably they judge, who 
are lefs careful of an eternal ftate, becaufe they may be 
at fome years diftance from it, than they would be, if 
they knew they were within a few weeks of it. 


> 
CHAP. XIV. 


Concerning that part of devotion which relates to times and 
3, hours of prayer. Of daily early prayer in the morning. 
“ How we are to improve our forms of prayer, and how 


‘to increafe the {pirit of devotion. 


HAVING in the foregoing chapters fhewn the 
neceflity of a devout fpirit, or habit of mind in every 
part of our common life, in the difcharge of all our bufi- 
nefs, in the ufe of all the gifts of God: I come now to 
confider that part of devotion, which relates to times 
and hours of prayer. 

I take it for granted, that every Chriftian, that is 
in health,.is up early in the morning ; for it is much 
more reafonable to fuppofe a perfon up early, becaufe 
he is a Chriftian, than becaufe he is a labourer, or 
a tradefman, or a fervant, or has bufinefs that wants 
him. : 

We naturally conceive fome abhorrence of a man 
that is in bed, when he fhould be at his labour, or in his 
fhop. We cannot tell how to think any thing good of 
him, who is fuch a flave to drowfinefs, as to neglect his 
bufinefs for it. 

_ Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how odious 

we muft appear in the fight of heaven, if we are in bed, 

fhut up in fleep and darknefs, when we fhould be praif- 
| ing God ; and are fuch flaves to drowfinefs, as to negleé 
our devotions for it, 
|. For if he isto be blamed as a flothful drone, that 
) rather choofes the lazy indulgence of fleep, than to per- 
| form his proper fhare of worldly bufinefs ; how much 
| vig he to be reproached, that had rather lie folded up in 

P 2 - 


‘are always careful of your devotions when you are” 


172 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ? 


a bed, than be raifing up his heart to God in aéts of 
praife and adoration ? 

Prayer is the neareft approach to God and the high- 
eft enjoyment of him, that we are capable of in this life. 

It is the nobleft exercife of the foul, the moft exalted 
ufe of our beft faculties, and the higheft eftimation of 
the bleffed inhabitants of heaven. 

When our hearts are full of God, fending up holy 
defires to the throne of grace, we are then in our 
higheft ftate, we are upon the utmoft heights of hu- 
man greatnefs ; we are not before kings and ‘princes, but 
in the prefence and audience of the Lord of all the 
world, and can be no higher, till death is fwallowed up: 
in glory. 

On the other hand, fleep is the pooreft, dulleft re- — 
frefhment of the body, that is fo far from beg — 
intended as an enjoyment, that-we are forced to re- 
ceive it either in a ftate of infenfibility, or in the folly 
of dreams. 

Sleep is fuch a dull, ftupid ftate of exiftence, that — 
even amongft mere animals, we defpife them moft, — 
which are moft drowfy. He therefore that choofes to 
enlarge the flothful indulgence of fleep, rather than be 
early at his devotions to God; choofes the dulleft re= 
frefhment of the body, before the highett, nobleft em- — 
ployment of the foul ; he choofes that ftate, which is a 
ifeproach to mere animals, rather than that exercife, — 
‘which is the glory of angels. ae 

You will perhaps fay, though you rife late, yet you ~ 


up. a 
Pt may be fo. But what then ? Is it well done of 
you to rife late, becaufe you pray when you are up 
Is it pardonable to wafte great part of the day in be 

- ‘becaufe fome time after you fay your-prayers? 
It is as much your duty to rife to pray, as to 
when you are rifen. And if you are late at your 
ers, you offer to God the prayers of an idle, 
worthipper, that rifes to prayers, as idle fervan 
their labour. ’ vf en 
eful of yo 


Farther, if you fancy that you are ca 
votions, when you are up, though it be y 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. : M42 


rife late, you deceive yourfelf ; for you cannot perform 
your devotions as you ought. For he that cannot deny 
himfelf this drowfy indulgence, but muft pafs away good 
part of the morning in it, is no more prepared for prayer 
when he is up, than he is prepared for fafting, abfti- 
nence, or any other felf-denial. He may indeed more 
eafily read over a form of prayer, than he can perform 
thefe duties ; but he is no more difpofed to enter into 
the true fpirit of prayer, than he is difpofed to fafting. 
For fleep thus indulged, gives a foftnefs and idlenefs to 
all our tempers, and makes us unable to relifh any 
thing, but what fuits with an idle ftate of mind, and 
gratifies our natural tempers as fleep does. So that a 
perfon that is a flave to this idlenefs, is in the fame tem- 
per when he is up ; and though he is not afleep, yet he 
is under the effects of it : and every thing that is idle, 
indulgent, or fenfual, pleafes him for the fame reafon 
that fleep pleafes him; and on the other hand, every 
thing that requires care, or trouble, or felf-denial, is 
hateful to him, for the fame reafon that he hates to rife. 
He that places any happinefs in this morning indulgence, 
would be glad to have all the day made happy in the 
fame manner ; though not with fleep, yet with fuch 
enjoyment as gratify and indulge the body in the fame 
manner as fleep does ; or at leaft, with fuch as come as 
hear to it as they can. The remembrance of a warm 
bed is in his mind all the day, and he is glad when he 
is not one of thofe that fit ftarving in a church. 

Now you do not imagine that fuch a one can truly 
mortify that body which he thus indulges ; yet you 
might as-well think this, as that he can truly perform 
his devotions ; or live in fuch a drowfy ftate of indul- 
gence, and yet relifh the joys of a fpiritual life. 

For furely no one will pretend to fay, that he knows 
and feels the true happinefs of prayer, who does not 
think it worth his while to be early at it. 

It is not poffible in nature for an epicure to be truly 
devout ; he muft renounce this habit of fenfuality, before 
he can relifh the happinefs of devotion. - 

Now he that turns fleep into an idle indulgence, does » - 

_-as much to. corrupt and difordérshis foul, to make it a 
lave to bodily appetites, and keep it incapable of ail 


| 


: : we en et eee eee ee ee ee oe Bi. 
174 A SERIOUS CALL TOA 


devout and heavenly tempers, as he that turns the necef- 
fities of eating eae er of indulgence. 

A perfon that and drinks too much, does not feel 
fuch effeéts from it, as thofe do who live in notorious 
inftances of gluttony and intemperance ; but yet his 
courfe of indulgence, though it be not {candalous in the 
eyes of the world, nor fuch as torments his own con- 
{cience, is a great and conftant hindrance to his improve. — 
ment in virtue ; it gives him eyes that fee not, and ears 
that hear not ; it creates a fenfuality im the foul, in- 
creafes the power of bodily paffions, and makes him in- 
capable of entering into the true fpirit of religion. 

Now this is the cafe of thofe who waite their time in 
fleep ; it does not diforder their lives, or wound their 
confciences, as notorious aéts of intemperance do ; but 
like any other more moderate courfe of indulgence, it 
filently, and by {maller degrees, wears away the fpirit of 
religion, and finks the foul into a ftate of dulnefs and 
fenfuality. | 

If you confider devotion only as a time of fo much — 
prayer, you may perhaps perform it, though you live — 
in this daily indulgence ; but if youconfider it as aftate — 
of the heart, as a lively fervour of the foul, that is deep- q 
by affe€ted with a fenfe of his own mifery and infirmities, — 
and defiring the {pirit of God more than all things in the ~ 
world, you will find that the f{pirit of indulgence, and : 
the fpirit of prayer, cannot fubfift together. Mortifi- 
cation of all kinds, is the very life and foul of piety =: — 
but he that has not fo fmalla degree of it, as to be — 
able to be early at his prayers, can have no reafon to — 
think that he has taken up his crofs, and is following 
Chrift. — 

What conqueft has he got over himfelf ? What right 
_ hand has he cut off ? What trials is he prepared for ? — 
What facrifice is he ready to offer unto God ? who © 
cannot be fo cruel to himfelf, as to rife to prayer at fuch 
time, as the drudging part of the world are content to — 
rife to their labour. fetes gel 

Some people will not fcruple to} they in- _ 
dulge themfelves in fleep, becaufet 
do ; and that if they had either bu 
vife to they would not lofe fo much of their 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE 175 


But fuch people muft be told, that they miftake the 
matter; that they have a great deal of bufinefs to do; 
they have a burdened heart to change ; they have the 
whole fpirit of religion to get. For furely, he that 
thinks devotion to be of lefs moment than bufinefs or 
pleafure ; or that he has nothing to do, becaufe nothing 
but his prayers want him, may be juftly faid to have the 
whole fpirit of religion to feek. 

You mutt not therefore confider, how fmall a crime 
it is to rife late, but you muft confider how great a mif- 
ery it is to want the fpirit of religion ; to have a heart 
not rightly affected with prayer ; and to live in fuch 
foftnefs and idlenefs, as makes you incapable of the 
moft fundamental duties of a truly chriftian and fpir- 
itual life. 

This is the right way of judging of the crime of 
wafting great part of your time in bed. 

You mutt not confider the thing barely in itfelf, but 
what it proceeds from ; what virtues it fhews to be 
wanting ; what vices it naturally ftrengthens. For 
every habit of this kind difcovers the ftate of the foul, 
and plainly fhews the whole turn of your mind. 

If our bleffed Lord ufed to pray early before day ; 
if he fpent whole nights in prayer ; if the devout Anna 
was day and night in the temple : if St. Paul and Silas 
at midnight fang praifes unto God ; if the primitive 
Chriftians, for feveral hundred years, befide their hours 
of prayer in the day-time, met publicly in the churches 
at midnight, to join in pfalms and prayers, is it not cer- 
tain that thefe practices fhewed the ftate of their heart ? 
are they not fo many plain proofs of the whole turn of 
their minds. 

And if you live in a contrary ftate, wafting great part 
of every day in fleep, thinking any time foon enough to 
be at your prayers; is it not equally certain, that this 
practice as much fhews the ftate of your heart, and the 
whole turn of your mind ? 

So that if this indulgence is your way of life, you have 
as much reafon to believe yourfelf deftitute of the true 
{pirit of devotion, «3 you have to believe the apoftles 
and faints of the primitive church were truly devout. 

for as their way of Jife was a demonftration of their 


W a ee eT ee 
176 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


devotion, fo a contrary way of life is as feo: a proof of 
a want of devotion. 

When you read the feriptures, you fee a religion that 
is all life, and fpirit, and joy in God ; that fuppofes our 
foul rifen from earthly defires, and bodily indulgences, 
to prepare for another body, another world, and other 
enjoyments. You fee Chriitians reprefented as temples 
of the Holy Ghott, as children of the day, as candidates _ 
for an eternal crown, as watchful virgins, that have their 
lamps always burning in expe@tation of the bridegroom. 
But can he be thought to have this joy in God, this care 
of eternity, this nevada {pirit, who has not zeal enough 
to rife to his prayers ? 

When you look into the writings and lives of the firft 
Chriftians, you fee the fame fpirit that you fee in the 
fcriptures. All is reality, life, and aétion. Watchings 
and prayers, felf-denial and mortification, was the com- 
mon bufinefs of their lives. 

From that time to this, there has been no perfon like 
them, eminent for piety, who has not, like them, been 
eminent for felf-denial and mortification. This is the 
only royal way that leads to a kingdom. fs 

But how far are you from this way of life, or rather 
how contrary to it, if, inftead of imitating their aufterity 
and mortification, you cannot fo much as renounce fo 
poor an indulgence, as to be able to rife to your prayers? — J 
If felf-denials and bodily fufferings, if watchings and fafte . 
ings, will be marks of glory at the day of judgment, — 
where muft we hide our bending that have flumbered away 
our time in floth and foftnefs ? “ 

You perhaps now find fome pretences, to excufe — 
yourfelf from that feverity of fafting and felf-denial, 
which the firft Chriftians praétifed. You fancy that 
human nature is ‘grown weaker, and that the difference 
of climates may make it not poflible for you to obferve 
their methods of felf-denial and aufterity, i in thefe 
countries. ; 

But all this is but pretence ; for the chine n 
in the outward ftate of things, but i in the inward | 
our minds. When there is the fame {pirit in 
there was in the apoftles and primitive Chrift 
we feel the weight of religion, as they did 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 177 


have their faith and hope, we fhall take up our crofs and 


’ deny ourfelves, and live in fuch methods of mortification 


as they did. 

Had St. Paul lived in a cold country, had he had a 
conftitution made weak with a fickly ftomach, and 
often infirmities, he would have done as he advifed 
Timothy, he would have mixed a little wine with his 
water. 

But ftiil he would have lived ina ftate of felf-denial 
and mortification. He would have given this fame ac- 
count of himfelf. «« I therefore fo run, not as uncertain- 
ly, fo fight I, not as one that beateth the air ; but I keep 
under my body and bring it unto fubjeétion, left that 
by any means, when I have preached to others, I myfelf 
fhould be a caft-away.”’ 

After all, ‘let it now be fuppofed, that you imagine 
there is no neceffity for you to be fo fober and vigilant, 
fo fearful of yourfelf, fo watchful over your paffions, fo 
apprehenfive of danger, fo careful of your falvation, as 
the apoftles were. Let it be fuppofed, that you imagine 
that you want lefs felf-denial and mortification, to fubdue 
your bodies, and purify your fouls, than they wanted ; 
that you need.not have your loins girt, and your lamps 
burning as they had, will you therefore live in a quite 


“contrary ftate ? Will you make your life as conftant a 


courfe of foftnefs and indulgence, as theirs was of ftri&t- 
nefs and felf-denial. 

If, therefore, you fhould think that you have time fuf- 
ficient, both for prayer and other duties, though you rife 
late ; yet let me perfuade you to rife early, as an inftance 
of felf-denial. It is fo fmall a one, that if you cannot 
comply with it, you have no reafon to think yourfelf ca- 
pable of any other. 

If I was to defire you not to ftudy the gratification of 
your palate, in the niceties of meats and drink, I would 
not infift much upon the crime of wafting your money 
in fuch a way, though it be a great one; but I would 


 defire you to renounce fuch a way of life, becaufe it fup- 


ports you in fuch a ftate of fenfuality and indulgence, as 
renders you incapable of rehifhing the moft eflential dos- 
trines of religion. wey 

For the fame reafon, I do not infift much on the crime 


ha 


1738 _ A SERIOUS CALLTO A 


of wafting fo much of your time in fleep, though it be a 
great one ; but I defire you to renounce this indulgence, - 
* Decaufe it gives a foftnefs and idlenefs to your foul ; and 
is fo contrary to that lively, zealous, watchful, felf-deny- 
ing {pirit, which was not only the fpirit of Chrift and his 
apoftles, the {pirits of all the faints and martyrs which 
have ever been amongft men, but muft be the fpirit of 
all thofe who would not fink in the common corruption 
of the world. | 

Here therefore we muft fix our charge againft this 
practice ; we muft blame it, not as having this or that 
particular evil, but as a general habit that extends itfelf 
through our whole fpirit, and fupports a ftate of mind 
that is wholly wrong. 

It is contrary to piety ; not as accidental flips and 
miftakes in life are contrary to it, but in fuch a manner, 
as an ill habit of body is contrary to health. 

On the other hand, if you was to rife early every — 
morning, as an inftance of felf-denial, as a method of | 
renouncing indulgence, as a means of redeeming your 
time, and fitting your fpirit for prayer, you would find 
mighty advantages from it. This method, though it 
feems fuch a {mall circumftance of life, would in all 
probability be a means of great piety. It would keep 
it conftantly in your head, that foftnefs and idlenefs 
were to be avoided, that felf-denial was a part of Chrift- 
ianity. It would teach you to exercife power over your=— 
felf, and make you able by degrees to renounce other | 
~ pleafures and tempers that war againft the foul. 

This ore rule would teach you to think of others ; 
would difpofe your mind to exaétnefs, and be very likel} 
to bring the remaining part of the day under rules < 
prudence and devotion. A 

But above all, one certain benefit from this methe 
you will be fure of having, it will beft fit.and pre 
you for the reception of the Holy Spirit. When you 
begin the day in the fpirit of renouncing fleep, be: 
you are to renounce foftnefs, and redeem your t 
this difpofition, as it puts your heart into a good f 
it will procure the affiftance of the Holy Spirit 5 
is fo planted and watered, will certainly have an in 
from God. You will then {peak from your 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. ~~ 79 


foul will be awake, your prayers will refrefh you like 
meat and drink, you will feel what you fay, and begin 
to know what faints and holy men have meant, by fer- 
vours of devotion. 

He that is thus prepared for prayer, who rifes with 
thefe difpofitions, is in a very different ftate from him, 
who has no rules of this kind: who rfes by chance, as 
he happens to be weary of his bed, or is able to fleep no 
longer. If fuch a one prays only with his mouth ; if 
his heart feels nothing of that which he fays; if his 
prayers are only things+of courfe; if they are a lifelefs 
form of words, which he only repeats becaufe they are 
foon faid, there is nothing to be wondered at in all this : 
for fuch difpofitions are the natural effe€t of fuch a ftate 
of life. 

Hoping therefore, that you are now enough convinc- 
ed of the neceffity of rifing early to your prayers, 
I fhall proceed to lay before you a method of daily 
prayer. 

I do not take upon me to prefcribe to you the ufe 
of any particular forms of prayer, but only to fhew 
the neceffity of praying at fuch times, and in fucha 
manner. 

You will here find fome helps, how to furnifh yourfelf 
with fuch forms of prayer as fhall be ufeful to you. 
Aad if you are fuch a proficient in the fpirit of devo- 
tion, that your heart is always ready to pray in its own 
language, in this cafe I prefs no neceffity of borrowed 
forms. ; 

For though I think a form of prayer very neceffary 
and expedient for public worfhip, yet if any one can 
find a better way of raifing his heart unto Godin pri- 
vate, than by prepared forms of prayer, I have nothing 
to object againft it ; my defign being only to affift and 
dire& fuch as ftand in need of affiftance. ; 

Thus much, I believe, is certain, that the gencrality of 
Chriftians ought to ufe forms of prayer, at all the regu- 
lar times of prayer. It feems right for every one to be- 
gin with a form of prayer ; and if, in the midft of devo-~ 
tions, he finds his heart ready to break forth into new 
4 higher ftrains of devotion, he fhould leave his form 


Q 


180 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


for a while, and follow thofe fervours 
it again wants the afliftance of his ufeful petitions. — 

This feems to be the true liberty of private devotion ; 
it fhould be under the direétion of fome form; but not 
fo tied down to it, but that it may be free to take fuch 
new expreffions, as its prefent fervours happen to furnifh - 
it with ; which fometimes are more affecting, and carry 
the foul more powerfully to God, than any expreffions 
that were ever ufed before. 

All people that have ever made any refleétions upon 
what paffes in their own hearts, muft know that they 
are mighty changeable in regard to devotion. Sometimes 
our hearts are fo awakened, have fuch ftrong apprehen- 
fions of the divine prefence, are fo full of deep compunc- 
tion for our fins, that we cannot confefs them in any 
language, but that of tears. 

Sometimes the light of God’s countenance ida fo 
bright upon us, we fee fo far into the invifible world, we 
are fo affected with the wonders of the love and goodnefs 
of God, that our hearts worfhip and adore in a language . 
higher than that of words, and wé feel tranfports of de- 
votion, which only can be felt. et j 

é 
‘ 


On the other hand, fometimes we are fo funk into 
‘our bodies, fo dull and unaffeéted with that which con- 
cerns our fouls, that our hearts are as much too low for — 
our prayers; we cannot keep pace with our forms of 2 
confeflion, or feel half of that in our hearts, which we © 
have in our mouths; we thank and praife God with — 
forms of words, but our hearts have little or no fhare in 
them. 

It is therefore highly neceffary to provide againft this. 
inconftancy of our hearts, by having at hand fuch forms: 
of prayer, as may beft fuit us when our hearts are in 

their beft ftate, and alfo be moft likely to raife and ftir 
them up, when they are funk intodulnefs, For as words 
shave a power of affe€ting our hearts on all occafions, 
the fame thing. differently exprefled has different e 
upom,our ialins ; fo it is reafonable, that we fhould n 
this@dvantage of language, and provide ourfelves 
{uch forms of expreflions, as are moft likely to move 
enliven our fouls, and fill them with fentimen 
te them. : 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 181 


The firft thing that you are to do, when you are up- 
on your knees, is to fhut your eyes, and with a fhort fi- 
lence let your foul place itfelf in the prefence of God ; 
that is, you are to ufe this, or fome other better meth- 
od, to feparate yourfelf from all common thoughts, and 
make your hearts as fenfible as you can of the divine 
prefence. 

Now if this recolle&tion of fpirit is neceflary, as who 
ean fay it is not ? then how poorly muft they perform 
their devotions, who are always in a hurry ; who begin 
them in hafte, and hardly allow themfelves time to re- 
peat their very form, with any gravity or attention ? 
Theirs is properly faying prayers, inftead of praying. 

To proceed ; if you was to ufe yourfelf (as far as you 
can) to pray always in the fame place ; if you was to 
referve that place for devotion, and not allow yourfelf 

~ to do any thing common in it ; if you was never to be 
there yourfelf, but in times of devotion ; if any little 
room (or if that cannot be) if any particular part of a 
room was thus ufed, this kind of confecration of it, as 

- a place holy unto God, would have an effe&t upon your 
mind, and difpofe you to fuch tempers, as would very 
much affift your devotion. For by having a place thus 
facred in your room, it would in fome meafure refemble 
a chapel, or houfe of God. This would difpofe you 
to be always in the fpirit of religion, when you was 
there ; and fill you with wife and holy thoughts, when 
you was by yourfelf. Your own apartment would raife 
in your mind fuch fentiments, as you have, when you 
fland near an altar ; and you would be afraid of think- 
ing or doing any thing that was foolifh near that place, 
which is the place of prayer, and holy intercourfe with 
God. 

When you begin your petitions, ufe fuch various ex- 
preflions of the attributes of God, as may make you 

_ moft fenfible of the greatnefs and- power of the divine 
| nature. 

Begin therefore in words like thefe : “ O Being of- 
all beings, Fountain of all light and glory, gracious 

Father of men and angels, whofe univerfal Spirit is 
every where prefent, giving life, and light, and joy, 


182 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


to all angels in heaven, and all creatures upon earth,” 
&c.' 

For thefe reprefentations of the ave paadiics, 
which fhew us in fome degree the majefty and greatnefs 
of God, are an excellent means of raifing our hearts into 
lively aéts of worfhip and adoration. 

What is the reafon that mhoft people are fo much af- 
fe&ed with this petition in the burial fervice of our 
Church : * Yet, O Lord God moft holy, O Lord moft 
mighty, O holy and moft merciful Saviour, deliver us 
not into the bitter pains of eternal death ?”? It is, be- 
caufe the joining together fo many great expreffions, 
gives fuch a defcription of the greatnefs of the divine 
Majefty, as naturally affeéts every fenfible mind. 

Although therefore prayer does not confift in fine 
words, or {tudied expreffions ; yet as words fpeak to the 
foul, as they have a certain power of raifing thoughts in 
the foul ; fo thofe words which fpeak of God in the 
higheft manner, which moft fully exprefs the power and 
prefence of God, which raife thoughts in the foul moft 
fuitable to the greatnefs and providence of God, are the 
moft ufeful, and moft edifying in our prayers. 

When you dire& any of your petitions to our bleffed 
Lord, let it be in fome expreffions of this kind: “ O 
Saviour of the world, God of God, Light of Light ; thou 
that art the Brightnefs of thy Father’s glory, and the 
exprefs Image of his perfon ; thou that art the Alpha 
and Omega, the Beginning and End of all things : thou 
tliat haft deftroyed the power of the devil; thou that 
haft overcome death; thou that art entered into the 
holy of holies ; that fitteft at the right hand of the Fa. 
ther ; that art high above all thrones and principalities, — 
that makeft interceffion for all the world ; thou that art — 
the Judge of the quick and dead ; thou that wilt fpeed- — 
ily come down in thy Father’s glory, to. reward all” 
men according to their works, be thou my light and my ~ 
peace.” &c. 

For fuch reprefentations, which defcribe fo many char- 
afters of our Saviour’s nature and power, are not ¢ only 1 
proper aéts of adoration, but will, if they are repeates 
with attention, fill our hearts with the highly fervours — 
of true devotion. gk” 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 183 


Again, if you afk any particular grace of our blefled 
Lord, let it be in fome manner like this : 

“ O holy Jefus, fon of the moft high God, thou that 
was fcourged at a pillar, ftretched and nailed on a crofs 
for the fins of the world, unite me to thy crofs, and fill 
my foul with thy holy, humble, and fuffering {pirit. O 
Fountain of mercy, thou that didft fave the thief upon 
the crofs, fave me from the guilt of a finful life : thou 
that didit caft feven devils out of Mary Magdalene, caft 
out of my heart, all evil thoughts, and wicked tempers. 
O giver of life, thou that didft raife Lazarus from the 
dead, raife up my foul from the death and darknefg of 
fin. Thou that didft give to thy apoftles power over 
unclean fpirits, give me power over mine own heart. 
Thou that didf appear unto thy difciples when the 
doors were fhut, do thou appear to me in the fecret 
apartment of my heart. Thou that didft cleanfe the le. 
pers, heal the fick, and give fight to the blind, cleanfe 
my heart, heal the diforders of my foul, and fill me with 
heavenly light.” 

Now thefe kind of appeals have a double advantage ; 
firft, as they are fo many proper aéts of our faith, where- 
by we not only fhew our belief of the miracles of Chrift, 
but turn them at the fame time into fo many inftances 
of worfhip and adoration. 

Secondly, as they ftrengthen and increafe the faith 
of our prayers, by prefenting to our mind fo many in- 
ftances of that power and goodnefs, which we call upon 
for our own affiftance. ~ 

For he that appeals to Chrift, as cafting out devils, 
and raifing the dead, has thei a powerful motive in 
his hand to pray earneftly, and depend faithfully upon 
his affiftance. 

Again, in order to fill your prayers with excellent 
flrains of devotion, it may be of ufe to you to obferve 
this farther rule : 

When at any time, either in reading the Scripture or 
any book of piety, you meet with a paffage that more 
than ordinarily affets your mind, and feems as it were 
to give your heart a new motion towards God, you fhould 
try to turn it into the form of a petition, and then give it 


~ aplace in your prayers. 


Q2 


i84 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


By this means, you would be often improving your 


prayers, and ftoring yourfelf with proper forms of mak- 
ing the defires of your heart known unto God. 

At all the ftated hours of prayer, it will be of great. 
benefit to you, to have fomething fixed, and fomething 
at liberty, in your devotions. 

You fhould have fome fixed fubje&t, which is con- 
fiantly to be the chief matter of your prayer at that par- 
ticular time ; and yet have liberty to add fuch other pe- 
titions, as your condition may then require. 

For inftance : as the morning is to you the begin- 
ning of new life; as God has then given you a new 
enjoyment of yourfelf, and a frefh entrance into the 
world, it is highly proper that your firft devotions fhould 
be a praife and thank{fgiving to God, as for a new crea- 
tion ; and that you fhould offer and devote body and 
foul, all that you are, and all that you have, to his fer- 
vice and glory. 

Receive therefore every day, as a refurreétion from 
death, as a new enjoyment of life; meet every rifin 
fun with fuch fentiments of God’s ‘goodnefs, as if you 


had feen it, and all things new created upon your ac- 


count ; and under the fenfe of fo great a bleffing, let 
your joyful heart, praife and magnify fo good and glo- 
rious a Creator. 

Let therefore praife and thankfgiving, and oblation of 
yourfelf unto God, be always the fixed and certain fub- 
je&t of your firft prayers in the morning ; and then take 
the liberty of adding fuch other devotions, as the accident= 


al difference of your ftate, or the accidental difference _ 


of your heart, fhall then make moft needful and Fe Ne 
ent for you. 

For one of the greateft benefits of private devotion)’ 
sonfifts in rightly adapting our prayers to thefe two 
conditions, the difference of eur ftate, and the difference 
of our hearts. s€ 

By the difference of our ftate, is meant the difference 
of our external ftate or condition, as of ficknefs, health, 
pains, loffes, difappointments, troubles, peice Tae 
ies or judgments from God ; all forts of kindneflt 
juries, or réproaches from other people. | 


Now as thefe are great parts of our ftate of lif 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 185 


they make great difference in it, by continually chang- 
ing ; fo our devotion will be made doubly beneficial to 
us, when it watches to receive and fanétify all thefe 
changes of our ftate, and turns them all into fo many ocs 
cafions of a more particular application to God of fuch 
thankfgivings, fuch refignation, fuch petitions as our 
prefent ftate more efpecially requires. © 

And he that makes every change in his ftate, a reafon 
of prefenting unto God fome particular petitions fuitable 
to that change, will foon find, that he has taken an ex- 
cellent means, not only of praying with fervour, but of 
liying as he prays. 

The next condition, to which we are always to adapt 
fome part of our prayers, is the difference of our hearts ; 
by which is meant the different ftate of the tempers of 
our hearts, as of love, joy, peace, tranquillity ; dulnefs 
and drynefs of fpirit, anxiety, difcontent, motions of en- 
vy and ambition, dark and difconfolate thoughts, refent- 
ments, fretfulnefs and peevifh tempers. 

Now as thefe tempers, through the weaknefs of our 
nature will have their fuccefflion more or lefs, even in 
pious minds ; fo we fhould conftantly, make the prefent 
itate of our heart, the reafon of fome particular appli- 
cation to God. : ites 

If we are in the delightful calm of fweet and eafy 
paifions, of love and joy in God, we fhould then of 
fer the grateful tribute of thankfgiving to God, for 
the poffeffion of fo much happinefs, thankfully owing 
and acknowledging him as the bountiful Giver of it 
all. 

If on the other hand, we feel ourfelves laden with 
heavy pafions, with dulnefs of fpirit, anxiety and un- 
eafinefs, we muft then look up to God in a&s of humil- 
ity, confefling our unworthinefs, opening our troubles 
to him, befeeching him in his good time to leflen the 
weight of our infirmities, and to deliver us from fuch 
paflions as oppofe the purity and perfection of our 

uls. M 

Now by thus watching, and attending to the prefent 
flate of our hearts, and fuiting fome of our petitions exe 
a€tly to their wants, we fhall not only be well acquaint- 


136 A SERIOUS CALL TO A-- 


ed with the diforders of our fouls, but alfo be well ex- 
ercifed in the method of curing them. , 

By this prudent and wife application of our prayers, 
we fhall get all the relief from them that is poffible ; and 
the very changeablenefs of our hearts, will prove a means 
of exercifing a greater variety of holy tempers. 

Now by all that has here been faid, you will eafily 
perceive, that perfons careful of the greateft benefit of 
prayer, ought to have a great fhare in the forming and 
compofing their own devotions. . 

As to that part of their prayers, which is always fix- 
ed to one certain fubjeé, in that they may ufe the help 
of fome forms compofed by other perfons ; but in that 
part of their prayers, which they are always to fuit to 
the prefent ftate of their life, and the prefent flate of 
their heart. There they mutt let the fenfe of their own 
condition help them to fuch kinds of petition, thank{giv- 
ing, or refignation, as their prefent ftate more efpecially 
requires. 

Happy are they, who have this bufinefs and employ- 
ment upon their hands ! 

And now, if people of leifure, whether men or wo- 
men, who are fo much at a lofs how to difpofe of their 
time, who are forced into poor contrivances, idle vifits, 
and ridiculous diverfions, merely to get rid of hours that 
hang heavily upon their hands ; if fuch were to appoint 
fome certain {paces of their time, to the ftudy of devo- 
tion, fearching after all the means and helps to attain a 
devout fpirit. If they were to colleé the beft forms of — 
devotion, to ufe themfelves to tranferibe the fineft pafla~ 
ges of fcripture prayers ; if they were to colle& the de- 
votions, confeffions, petitions, praifes, refignations, and — 
thankfgivings, which are fcattered up and down in the © 
Pfalms, and range them under proper heads, as fo much — 
proper fuel for the flame of their own devotion. If their — 
minds were often thus employed, fometimes meditating © 
upon them, fometimes getting them by heart, and mak- 
ing them as habitual as their own thoughts, how fervent- 
ly would they pray, who came thus prepared to pray~— 
er? r ‘ a gl d 
And how much better would it be, to make this ben- 
efit of leifure time; than to be dully and idly loft i f 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 187 


poor impertinences of a playing, vifiting, wandering 
life ? 

How much better would it be, to be thus furnifhed 
with hymns and anthems of the faints, and teach their 
fouls to afcend to God ; than to corrupt, bewilder and 
confound their heart, with the wild fancies, the luftful 
thoughts of lewd poets ? 

Now though people of leifure feem called more par- 
ticularly to this ftudy of devotion, yet perfons eof much 
bufinefs or labour, muft not think themfelves excufed 
from this or fome better method of improving their de- 
votion. : 

For the greater their bufinefs is, the more need they 
have of fome fuch method as this, to prevent its power 
over their hearts ; to fecure them from finking into 
-worldly tempers, and preferve a fenfe and tafte of heav- 
enly things in their minds. And a little time regularly 
and conftantly employed to any one ufe or end, will do 
great things, and produce mighty effeéts. 

And it is for want of confidering devotion in this light, 
as fomething that is to be nuried and cherifhed with 
care, as fomething that is to be made part of our bufi- 
' nefs, that isto be improved with care and contrivance, by 

art, and method, and a diligent ufe of the beft helps ; it 
is for want of confidering it in this light, that fo many 
people are fo little benefited by it, and live and die 
ftrangers to that fpirit of devotion, which by a prudent 
ufe of proper means, they might have enjoyed in a high 
degree. 

For though the fpirit of devotion is the gift of God, 
and not attainable by any mere power of our own, yet 
it is moftly given, and never withheld, from thofe, who 
by a wife and diligent ufe of proper means, prepare 
themfelves for the reception of it. 

And it is amazing to fee how eagerly men employ 
their parts, their fagacity, time, ftudy, application, and 
exercife ; how all helps dre called to their affiftance, when 
any thing is intended and defired in worldly matters ; and 
how dull, negligent, and unimproved they are, how little 

they ufe their parts, fagacity, and abilities, to raife and 
" increafe their devotion ! 
_ Mundanus is a man of excellent parts, and clear appre- 


188 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


henfion. He is well advanced in age, and has made a 
great figure in bufinefs. Every part of trade and bufi- 
nefs that has fallen in his way, has had fome improve- 
ment from him ; and he is always contriving to carry 
every method of doing any thing well, to its greateft 
height. Mundanus aims at the greateft perfection in 
every thing. The foundnefs and itrength of his mind, 
and his juft way of thinking upon things, makes him in- 
tent upon removing all imperfeétions. 

He that can tell you all the defeéts and errors in all 
the common methods, whether of trade, building, or im- 
proving land or manufactures. The clearnefs and 
ftrength of his underftanding, which he is conftantly im- 
proving, by continual exercife in thefe matters, by often 
digefting his thoughts in writing, and trying every thing 
every way, has rendered him a great mafter of moft con- 
cerns in-human life. 

Thus has Mundanus “gone on, increafing his knowl- 
edge and judgment, as faft as his years came upon him, 

The one only thing, which is not fallen under his 
improvement, nor received any benefit from his judi-— 
cious mind, is his devotion: this is juft in the fame poor ~ 
flate it was, when he was only fix years of age: and 
the old man prays now, in that little form of words, 
which his mother ufed to hear him repeat night and 
morning. q 

Thus Mundanus, that hardly ever faw the pooreft 
utenfil, or ever took the meaneft trifle into his hand, 
without confidering how it might be made or ufed to 
better advantage, has gone all his life long praying in 
the fame manner as when he was a child ; without ever © 
confidering how much better or oftener he might 
pray ; without confidering how improveable the fpirit 
of devotion is, how many helps a wife and reafon- 
able man may call to his affiftance, and how nece iH 
ry it is, that our prayers fhould be enlarged, vai 
and fuited to the particular ftate and condition of our 
lives. rs *. 

If Mundanus fees a book of devotion, he pafles 
as he does a fpelling-book, becaufe he remembers 
he learned to pray fo many years ago under his m 
when he learnt te fpell. : <a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 189 


Now how poor and pitiable is the condu& of this 
man of fenfe, who has fo much judgment and under- 
ftanding in every thing, but that which is the whole wif- . 
dom of man ? a 

And how miferably do many people, more or lefs 
imitate this conduct ? 

All which feems to be owing to a ftrange infatuated 
ftate of negligence, which keeps people from confidering 
what devotion is. For if they did but once proceed fo 
far, as to reflect about it, or afk themfelves any queftions 
concerning it, they would foon fee that the fpirit of de- 
votion was like any other fenfe or underftanding, that 
is only to be improved by ftudy, care, application, and 
the ufe of fuch means and helps, as are neceflary to make 
a man a proficient in any art or fcience. 

Clafficus is a man of learning, and well verfed in all 
the beft authors of antiquity. He has read them fo 
much, that he has entered into their fpirit, and can very 
ingenioufly imitate the manner of any of them. All 
their thoughts are his thoughts, and he can exprefs him- 
felf in their language. He is fo great a friend to this 
improvement of the mind, that if he lights of a young 
fcholar he never fails to advife him concerning his 
ftudies. : 

Clafficus tells his young man, he muft not think that 

he has done enough, when he has only learnt languages ; 

but that he muft be daily converfant with the beft au- 
thors ; read them again and again, catch their fpirit by 
living with them, and that there is no other way of be-- 
coming like them, or of making himfelf a man of tafte 
and judgment. : 

How wife might Clafficus have been, and how much 
good might he have done, in the world, if he had but 
thought as juftly of devotion, as he does of learning ? 

He never, indeed, fays any thing fhocking or offenfive 
about devotion, becaufe he never thinks or talks about 
it. It fuffers nothing from him, but negle& and difre- 

rd. i 
~ The two teftaments would not have had fo much asa 

-place.amongit his books, but that they are both to be 
Bad in Greek. : : 


- » Clafficus thinks that he fufficiently thews his regard 


190 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 


for the holy fcripture, when he tells you, that he has ‘no 
other book of piety befides them. 

It is very well, Clafficus, that you prefer the bible to 
all other books oF piety 5 ; he has no ane, ace that is 
not thus far of your opinion. 

But if you will have no other book of piety befides 
the bible, becaufe it is the beft, how comes it, Clafficus, 
that you do not content yourfelf with one of the beft 
books amongft the Greeks and Romans ? How comes 
it that you are fo greedy and eager after all of them? 
How comes it that you think the knowledge of one is a 
neceflary help to the knowledge of the other? How 
comes it that you are fo earneft; fo laborious, fo expen- 
five of time and your money to reftore broken periods 
and {craps of the ancients ? 

How comes it that you read fo many commentators 
upon Cicero, Horace, and Homer, and not one upon the 
gofpel ? How comes it that your love of Cicero, and 
Ovid, makes you love to read an author that writes like 
them ; and yet your efteem for the gofpel gives you 
no defire, nay prevents your reading fuch books, as 
breathe the very fpirit of the gofpel ? 

How comes it that you tell your young fcholar, he 
muft not content himfelf with barely underftanding his 
authors, but muft be continually reading them all, as 
the only means of entering into their fpirit, and forming 
his own judgment according to them ? 

Why then muft the bible lie alone in your ftudy ? Is 
not the fpirit of the faints, the piety of the holy follow- — 
ers of Jefus Chrift, as good and neceflary a means of — 
entering into the fpirit and tafte of the gofpel, as the 
reading of the ancients is of entering into the fpirit of a 
antiquity ? a 

Is the fpirit of poetry only to be got by much reading 
of poets and orators? And is not the {pirit of devotion — 
to be got in the fame way, by frequent reading the ho 
thoughts, and pious ftrains of devout men ? 

Is your young poet to fearch after every line, 
may give new wings to his fancy, or dire his 
tion ? And is it not as reafonable for him, who 
to improve in the divine life, that is, in the love 
enly things, to fearch after every ftrain of © 


DE ” 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 191i 


that may move, kindle, and inflame the holy ardour of 
his foul. ; 

Do you advife your orator to tranflate the beft ora- 
tions, to commit much of them to memory, to be fre- 
quently exercifing his talent in this manner, that habits 
of thinking and {peaking juftly may be formed in his 
mind? And is there not the fame benefit and advantage 
to be made by books of devotion ? Should not a man ufe 
them in the fame way, that habits of devotion, and 
afpiring to God in holy thoughts, may be well formed 
in his foul. 

Now the reafon why Clafficus docs not think and 


_ judge thus reafonably of devotion, is owing to his never 


thinking of it in any other manner, than as the repeating 
a form of words. It never in his life entered into his 
head, to think of devotion as a ftate of the heart, as an 
improvable talent of the mind, as a temper that is to 
grow and increafe like our reafon and judgment, and to 
be formed in us by fuch a regular diligent ufe of proper 
means, as are neceflary to form any other wife habit of 
mind. « 

And it is for want of this, that he has been content 
all his life with the bare letter of prayer, and eagerly 


_ bent upon entering into the fpirit of heathen poets and 


orators. 

And it is much to be lamented, that numbers of {chol- 
ars are more or lefs chargeable with this exceffive folly ; 
fo negligent of improving their devotion, and fo delirous. 

-of other poor accomplifhments, as if they thought it a- 
nobler talent, to be able to write an epigram in the turn 
of Martial, than to live, and think, and pray to God, in 
the fpirit of St. Auftin. 

And yet to correé& this temper, and fill a man with a 
quite contrary fpirit, there feems to be no more required, 
than the bare belief of the truth of Chriftianity. 

And if you was to afk Mundanus and Clafficus, or 
any man of bufinefs or learning, whether picty is not 
the higheft perfe€tion of man, or devotion the greatelt 


_ attainment in the world, they muft both be forced to an- 


fwer in the affirmative, or elfe give up the truth of the 


 gofpel. 


For to fet any accomplifhment againft devotion, or to 


bl 


z) 


- 192. A SERIOUS CALL TOA 


think any thing, or all things in the world, bears any 
proportion to its excellency ; is the fame abfurdity in a 
Chriftian, as it would be in a philofopher to prefer a 
meal’s meat, to the greateft improvement in knowledge. 

.For as philofophy profeffes purely the fearch and in- 
guiry after knowledge; fo Chriftianity fuppofes, in- 
tends, defires and aims at nothing elfe, but the raifing 
fallen man to a divine life, to fuch habits of holinefs, 
fuch degrees of devotion, as may fit him to enter amongtt 
the holy inhabitants ot the kingdom of heaven. 

He that does not believe this of chriftianity, may be © 
reckoned an infidel ; and he that believes thus much, 
has faith enough to give him a right judgment of the 
value of things, to fupport him in a found mind, and en- 
able him to conquer all the temptations which the world- 
fhall lay in his way. Pe 

To conclude this chapter. Devotion is nothing elfe 
but right apprehenfions, and right affeétions towards 
God. ‘ 

All praétices therefore that heighten and improve our — 
true apprehenfiens of God, all ways of life that tend te 
nourifh, raife, ané fix our affections upon him, are to ; 
be reckoned fo many helps and means to fill us with de- — 
votion. - 

As prayer is the proper fuel of this holy flame, fo we — 
mutt ufe all our care and centrivance to give prayer its 
full power ; as by alms, felf-denial, frequent retirements, — 
and holy readings, compofing forms for ourfelves, or 
ufing the beft we can get, adding length of time, and ob. | 
ferving hours of prayer ; changing, improving, and {uit-— 
ing our devotions to the condition of our lives, and the 
ftate of our hearts. \ 

Thofe who have moft leifure, feem more efpecially 
called to a more eminent obfervance of thefe holy rules 
of a devout life. And they, who by the neceffit 
their ftate, and not through their own choice, have 
little time to employ thus, muft make the beft uf 
that little they have. ae 

oti 


For this is the certain way ef making di 
“duce a devout life. he BP i ise 


¥ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY EIFE. 195 


CHAP. XV. 


Of chanting or finging of pfalms in our private devotions. 
Of the excellency and benefit of this kind of devotion. Of 
the great effets it hath upon our hearts. Of the means 
of performing it in the beft manner. 


YOU have feen in the foregoing chapter what 
means and methods you are to ufe, to raife and improve 
your devotion. How early you are to begin your pray- 
ers, and what is te be the fubje& of your firft devotions 
in the morning. 

There is one thing ftill remaining, that you muft be 
required to obferve, not only as fit and proper to be done, 
but as fuch as cannot be negleCied, without great preju- 


dice to your devotions. And that is, to begin all your 


prayers with a pfalm. 
This is fo right, is fo beneficial to devotion, has fo 


‘much effeé& upon our hearts, that it may be infifted upon 


as a common rule for all perfons. 

I do not mean that you fhould read over a pfalm, but 
that you fhould chant or fing one of thofe pfalms, which 
we commonly call the reading pfalms. For finging is as 
much the proper ufe of a pfalm, as devout fupplication 
isthe proper ufe of a form of prayer. And a pfalm 


_ only read, is very much like a prayer that is only looked 


over. 

Now the method of chanting a pfalm, fich as is ufed 
in the colleges, in the univerfities, and in fome churches, 
is fuch as all perfons are capable of. The change of the 
voice in thus chanting of a pfalm is fo {mall and natural, 
that every body is able to do it, and yet fufficient to raife 
and keep up the gladnefs of our hearts. 

You are therefore to confider this chanting of a pfalm, 
as a neceflary beginning of your devotions, as fomething 
that is to awaken all that is good and holy within you, 
that is to call your fpirits to their proper duty, to fet 


you in your beft pofture towards heaven, and tune all 


the powers of your foul to worfhip and adoration. 


* 


a 


a 


' you had faid fomething much truer. 


194 A SERIOUS CALL 'TO A . 


For there is nothing that fo clears a way for your. 
‘prayers, nothing that fo difperfes dulnefs of heart, noth- 
ing that fo purifies the foul from poor and little paf- 
fions, nothing that fo opens heaven, or carries your heart 
fo near it, as thefe fongs of praife. 

They create a fenfe and delight in God, they awaken 
holy defires, they teach you how to afk, and they pre- 
vail with God to give. ‘They kindle an holy flame, they _ 
turn your heart into an altar, your prayers into incenfe, 
and carry them as a {weet {melting favour to the throne 
ef Grace. 

The difference between finging and reading a pfalm, 
will eafily be underftood, if you confider the difference 
between reading and finging a common fong that you 
like. Whilft you only read it, you only likei it, and that 
is all ; but foon as you fing it, then you enjoy it, you 
feel the delight of it, it has got hold of you, your paf- 
fions keep pace with it, and you feel the fame fpirit 
within you, that there feems to be in the words. 

If you was to tell a perfon that has fuch a fong, that 
he need not fing it, that it was fufficient to perufeit ; he 
would wonder what you mean ; and would think you as 
abfurd, as if you was to tell him, that he fhould only — 
look at his food, to fee whether it was good, but need 
not eat it; fora fong of praife not fung, is very like any 
other good thing not made ufe of. 

You will perhaps fay, that finging is a pattioular tal. 
ent, that belongs only to particular people, and that yar | 
have neither voice nor ear to make any mufic. 

If you had faid that finging is a general talent, coll j 
that people differ in that as they do in all other things, 4 


For how vaftly do people differ in the talent of think. 
ing, which is not only common to all men, but feems to a 
be the very effence of human nature ! How readily do — 
fome people reafon upon every thing: and how hardly ~ 
do others reafon upon any thing ! How clearly do fome — 
people difcourfe upon the moft abitrufg matters ? and ~ 
how confufedly do others talk upon ‘@#e plaine 
jects ! 

Yet no one defires to Se excufed fom though ni 
fen, or difcourfe, becaufe he has not thefe ta 


DEVOUT AND HOLY -LIFE. 195 


fome people have them. But it is full as juft, for a per- 
fon to think himfelf excufed from thinking upon God, 
from reafoning about his duty to him, or difcourfing 
about the means of falvation, becaufe he has not thefe 
talents in any fine degree ; this is full as juft, as fora 
perfon to think himfelf excufed from finging the praifes 
of God, becaufe he has not a fine ear, or a mufical 
voice. 

For as it is fpeaking, and not graceful fpeaking, that 
is a required part of prayer ; as it is bowing, and not gen- 
teel bowing, that is a proper part of adoration ; fo it is 
finging, and not artful fine finging, that is a required 
way of praifing God. 

If a perfon was to forbear praying, becaufe he had an 
odd tone in his voice ; he would have as good an excufe 
as he has, that forbears from finging pfalms, becaufe he 
has but little management of his voice. Andas a man’s 
{peaking his prayers, though in an odd tone, may yet 
fufficiently anfwer all the ends of his own devotion ; foa 
man’s finging of a pfalm, though not in a very mufical 
way, may yet fufliciently anfwer all the ends of rejoicing 
in, and praifing God. 

Secondly, this objeCtion might be of fome weight, if 
you was defired to fing, to entertain other people ; but is 
not to be admitted in the prefent cafe ; where you are 
only required to fing the praifes of God, asa part of 

" your own private devotion. 

If a perfon that has a very ill voice, and a bad way of 
fpeaking, was defired to be the mouth of a congregation, 
it would be a very proper excufe for him, to fay that he 
had not a voice, or a way of {peaking, that was proper 
for prayer. But he would be very abfurd. if for the 
fame reafon he fhould neglect his own private devo~ 

‘tions. 
- *» Now this is exa@tly the-cafe of finging pfalms ; you 
‘may not have the talent of finging, fo as to be able to 


| ftain othergpeople, and therefore it is reafonable to 
| | exe sci youre Fr it ; but if for that reafon you 
 fhould’excufe yourfelf from this way of praifing God, 


2 you would be guilty of a great abfurdity : becaufe fing- 

_ ing is no more re for the mufic that is made by 
_» it, than prayer equired for the fine words that it con- 
ee 25 


ee 


ss a 
Ws 


ra 


196 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


tains, but as it is the natural and proper expreffion of a 
heart rejoicing in God. - ee 

Our bleiled Saviour and his apoftles fung an hymn, 
but it may reafonably be fuppofed, that’ they rather re« 
joiced in God, than made fine mufic. 

Do but fo live, that your heart may truly rejoice in 
God, that it may feel itfelf affe€ted with the praifes of 
God, and then you will find, that this ftate of your 
heart will neither want a voice, nor ear, to find a tune 
for a pfalm. Every one at fome time or other, finds 
himfelf able to fing in fome degree ; there are fometimes 
and occafions of joy, that make all people ready to ex- 
prefs their fenfe of it in fome fort of harmony. ‘The joy 
that they feel, forces them to let their voices have a part 
m It. , : 

He therefore, that faith he wants a voice, or an ear, 
to fing a pfalm, miftakes the cafe: he wants that fpirit 
that really rejoices in God; the dulnefs is in his heart, 
and not in his ear; and when his heart feels a true joy 
in God, when it has a full relifh of what is expreffed in 
the pfalms, -he will find it very pleafant, to make the 
motions of his voice exprefs the motions of his heart. 

Singing indeed, as it is improved into an art, as it fig- 
nifies the running of the voice through fuch or fuch a 
eompafs of notes, and keeping’ time with a ftudied variety 
of changes, is not-natural, nor the effect of any natural 

_ ftate of the mind ; fo in this fenfe, it is not common ~ 
to all people, any more than thofe antic and in- — 
vented motions, which make fine dancing, are common 
to all people. a ) 

But finging, as it fignifies a motion of the voice fuit-— 
able to the motions of the heart, and the changing of its 
“tone according to the meaning of the words which we 
utter, is as natural and common to all men, as it is to” 
fpeak high when they threaten in anger, or to {peak low 
when they are dejeCted and afk for a pardon. 2 eel 

All men therefore are fingers, in the fame m 
all men think, fpeak, laugh, and lam ‘For fingi 
is no more an invention, than grief or joy are inven 
tions. * eal 


Every {tate of the heart naturally puts the body in 


y into 
fome ftate that is fuitable to it, and isPyoper to thew it — 


Ae 


DEVOUF AND HOLY LIFE 197 


to other people. If a man is angry, or difdainful, no 
one need inftruct him how to exprefs thefe paflions by 
the tone of his voice. The ftate of his heart difpofes 
him toa proper ufe of his voice. 

If there are but few fingers of divine fongs, if people 
want to be exhorted to this part of devotion ; it is be- 
caufe there are but few, whofe hearts are raifed to that 
height of piety, as to feel any motions of joy and delight 
in the praifes of God. wt 

Imagine to yourfelf, that. you had been with Mofes 
when he was led through the Red Sea; that you had 
feen the waters divide themfelves, and ftand on an heap 
on both fides; that you had feen them held up till you 
had paffed through, then let fall upon our enemies ; do 
you think that you fhould then have wanted a voice or 
an ear to have fung with Mofes, The Lord is my ftrength 
and my fong, and he is become my falvation, kc? I know, 
your own heart tells you, that all people muft have been 
fingers upon fuch anoccafion. Let this therefore teach 
you that it is the heart that tunes a voice to fing the 
praifes of God ; and that if you cannot fing thefe fame 
words now with joy, it is becaufe you are not fo affected 
with the falvation of the world by Jefus Chrift, as the 
Jews were, or you yourfelf would haye been, with their 
deliverance at the Red fea. ; 

That it is the ftate of the heart that difpofes us to re- 
joice in any particular kind of finging, may be eafily 
proved from variety of obfervations upon human nature. 
An old debauchee may, according to the language of the 
world, have neither voice nor ear, if you only fing a 
pfalm, or a fong, in praife of virtue to him ; but yet if 
in fome eafy tune you fing fomething that celebrates his 
former debauchees, he will then, though he has no teeth 
in his head, fhew you, that he has both a voice and an 
ear to join in fuch mufic. You then awaken his heart 
and he as naturally fings to fuch words, as he laughs 
when he is pleafed. And this will be the cafe in every 
fong that touches the heart ; if you celebrate the ruling 
paflion of any man’s heart, you put his voice in tune to 
join with you. 

» Thus if you can find a man, whofe ruling temper is 
devotion, whofe heart is full of God, his voice will re- 


: ax 


198 A SERIOUS CALL TOA _ 


joice in thofe fongs of praife, which glorify that God that 
is the joy of his heart, though he has neither voice nor — 
ear for other mufic. Would you therefore delightfully 
perform this part of devotion, it is not fo neceffary to 
learn a tune, or practife upon notes, as to prepare your * 
heart ; for, as our bleffed Lord faith, Out of the heart 
proceed evil thoughts, murders, &c. fo it isequally true, — 
that out of the heart proceed holy joys, thankfgiving 
and praife. If you can once fay with David, My heart 
is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed; it will be very eafy - 
and natural to add, as he did, J will fing and give praife, 
&c. 

Secondly, Let us now confider another reafon for this 
kind of devotion. . As finging is a natural-effeét of joy 
in the heart, fo it has alfo a natural power of rendering 
the heart joyful. - 4 

The foul and body are fo united, that they have each 
of them power over one another in their a€tions. Cer- 
tain thoughts and fentiments in the foul, produce fuch 
and fuch motions or aétions in the body ; and on the 
other hand, certain motions and aétions of the body, have — 
the fame power of raifing fuch and fuch thoughts and 
fentiments m the foul. So that as finging is the natural 
effe&t of joy in the mind, fo it is as truly a natural caufe 
of raifing joy in the mind. ob 

As devotion of the heart naturally breaks out into” 
outward aéts of prayer, fo outward aéts of prayer are 
natural means of raifing the devotion of the heart. 

It is thus in all ftates and tempers of the mind ; as the 
inward ftate of the mind produces outward actions fuita- 
ble to it, fo thofe outward aétions have the like power 
of raifing an inward ftate of mind fuitable to them. 

_ As anger produces angry words, fo angry words in= 

creafe anger. 

So that if we barely confider human nature, we fi 
find, that finging or chanting the pfalms, isas proper: 
neceflary to raife our hearfs to a delight in God, 2 
prayer is proper and neceffary to excite in us the fp; 
of devotion. Every reafon for one, is in all reff 
ftrong a reafon for the other. 

If therefore you would know the reafon and 
ef finging pfalms, you muft confider the reafon 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 199 


ceflity of praifing and rejoicing in God ; becaufe finging 
of pfalms is as much the true exercife and fupport of 
this {pirit of thank{giving, as prayer is the true exercife 
and fupport of the fpirit of devotion. And you may as 
well think, that you can be devout as you ought, with- 
- out the ufe of prayer, as that you can rejoice in God as 
you ought, without the practice of finging pfalms. Be- 
caufe this finging is as much the natural language of 
praife and thank{giving, as prayer is the natural iaeer 
of devotion. 

The union of foul and body is not a mixture of their 
fubftances, as we fee bodies united and mixed together, 
but confiits folely in the mutual power that they have of 
acting upon one another. 

If two perfons were in fuch a ftate of dependance up- 
on one another, that neither of them could a&t, or move, * 
or think, or feel, or fuffer, or defire any thing, without 
putting the pilensinidyithe Gaps condition, one might 
properly fay, that they were in a ftri€t union, although 
their fubftances were not united together. 

Now this is the union of the foul and body ; the fub- 
ftance of the one cannot be mixed or united with the 
other ; but they are held together in fuch a ftate of union, 
that all the actions and fufferings of the one, are at the 
fame time the actions and fufferings of the other. The 
foul has no thought or paffion, but the body is concerned 
in it ; the body has no aétion or motion, but what in 
fome degree affects the foul. 

Now as it is the fole will of God, that is the reafon: 
and caufe of all the powers and effe€ts which you fee in 
the world ; as the fun gives light and heat, not becaufe 
it has any natural power of fo doing ; as it is fixed ina 
certain place, and other bodies move about it : not be- 
caufe it isin the nature of the fun todtand ftill, and in 
the nature of other bodies to move about it ; but merely 
becaufe it is the will of God, that they fhould be in fuch 
a ftate. As the eye is the organ or inftrument of feeing, 
not becaufe the fkins, and coats, and humours of the eye, 
have a natural power of giving fight: As the ears are 
the organs or inftrument of hearing, not becaufe the 
make of the ear has any natural power over founds, but 
k merely becaufe it is the will of God, that feeing and 


9,0) 2% 


er Sy 


200 A SERIOUS €ALL . TO A 


hearing fhould be thus received: fo in Tike ‘manner itis 
the fole will of God, and not the nature of a human foul 
or body, that is the caufe of this union element de ae 
and the body. 

Now if you rightly apprehend this fhort aime #1 
the union of the foul and body, you will fee a great deal 
into the reafon and neceflity of all the outward parts of 
religion. 

This union of our fouls and bodies, is iocnemion both 
why we have fo little and fo much power over ourfelves. 
It is owing to this union that we have fo little power 
over our fouls ; for as we cannot prevent the effects of 
external objects upon our bodies ; as we cannot command ~ 
outward caufes ; fo we cannot always command the in- 
ward ftate of our minds ; becaufe, as outward objets 
aét upon our bodies without our leave, fo our bodies a& 
upon our minds by the laws of the union of the foul and 
the body: And thus you fee it is owing to this union, 
that we have fo little power over ourfelves. 

On the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we 
have fo much power over ourfelves. For as our fouls in 
a great meafure depend upon our bodies ; and as we 
*\,, have great power over our bodies ; as we command our 

- outward ations, and_oblige ourfelves to fuch habits of 
life, as naturally produce habits in the foul; as we can 
mortify our bodies, and remove ourfelves from objects 
that inflame our paffious ; fo we have a great power Coad 
the inward ftate of our fouls. Again, as we are mafters 
of our outward aétions ; as we can force ourfelves to ~ 
outward aéts ef reading, praying, finging, and the like ;__ 
and as all thefe bodily aétions have an effe& upon the 
foul, as they naturally tend to form fuch and fuch tem- — 
pers in our hearts ; fo by being matters of thefe outward, ‘A 
bodily actions, we have great power over the inward ds } 
flate of the heart. 


much power over ourfelves. 

Now from this you may alfo Yee the Pas 
benefit of finging pfalms, and of all the outward 
of religion ; for if the body has fo much power ove 
‘foul, it is certain that-all fuch bodily aétions as 
the foul, are of great weight in religion. Not as I 


| 
i 
i 
| 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2Q1 


was any true worfhip or piety in the actions themfelves, 
but becaufe they are proper to raife and fupport that 
fpirit, which is the true worfhip of God. 

Though therefore the feat of religion is in the heart, 
yet fince our bodies have a power over our hearts, fince 
outward actions both proceed from, and enter into the 
heart, it is plain, that outward a¢tions have a great power 
over that religion which is feated in the heart. 

We are therefore as well to ufe outward helps, as in- 
ward meditation, in order to beget and fix habits of piety 
in our hearts. 

This doétrine may be eafily carried too far ; for by 
ealling in too many outward means of worfhip, it may 
degenerate into fuperftition : as on the other hand, fome 
have fallen into the contrary extreme. For becaufe re- 
ligion is juftly placed in the heart, fome have purfued 
that notion fo far, as to renounce vocal prayer, and other 
outward aéts of worfhip, and have refolved all religion 
into a quietifm, or myftic intercourfes with God in 
filence. i 

Now thefe are two extremes equally prejudicial to 
true religion ; and ought not to be objected either againft 
internal or external worfhip. As you ought not to fay, 
that I encourage that quietifm, by placing religion in 
the heart ; fo neither ought you to fay that I encourage 
fuperftition, by fhewing the benefit of outward aéts of 
worthip. 

For fince we are neither all foul, nor all body ; feeing 
none of our a¢tions are either feparately of the foul, or 


. feparately of the body ; feeing we have no habits but 


fuch as are produced by the ations both: of. our fouls 
and bodies ; it is certain, that if we would’ arrive*at hab- 
its of devotion, or delight in God, we muft not only med- 
itate and exercife our fouls, but we mutt praGtife and ex- 
ercife our bodies to all fuch outward ations, as are ¢ 
formable to thefe inward tempers. Bets 
If we would truly proftrate our fouls before God, we — 


- muft ufe our bodies to poftures of lowlinefs. If we de- 


fire trie fervour of devotion, we muft make prayer the 
frequent labour of our lips. If we would banifh all 


: _ pride and paffion from our hearts, we muft force our- 
_ felves to all outward actions of patience and meeknefs. 


392, A SERIOUS CALL TO A R . her 


If we would feel motions of joy and delight in God, 
we muft praétife all the outward aéts Si and make 
our voices call upon our hearts. 

Now therefore, you may plainly fee ne fralee and 
neceflity of finging of pfalms ; it is becaufe outward ac- 
tions are neceffary to fupport inward tempers 3 “and 
therefore the outward a€& of joy is neceffary to raife and 
fupport the inward joy of the mind. — 

If any people were to leave off prayer, becaufe” they 
feldom find the motions of their hearts anfwering the 

words which they fpeak, you would charge them: with 
great abfurdity. “ You would think it very reafonable, 
that they fhall continue their prayers, and be ftri& in 
obferving all times of prayer, as the moft likely means 
of removing the dulnefs and indevotion of their hearts. 

Now this is very much the cafe as to finging « of pfalmi aie 
people often fing without finding any inward joy - fuitab 
to the words which they {peak ; therefore they are care- 
lefs of it, or wholly negleé it ; not confidering that oe 
aé&t as abfurdly, as he that fhould negleét prayer, beca 
his heart was not enough affected with it. For it is cer- 
tain, that this finging is as much the natural means of 
raifing motions of joy in the mind, as prayer is the nat-— 
ural means of raifing devotion. 

I have been the longer upon this head, becaufe of its 
great importance to true religion. For there is no ftate. | 
of mind fo holy, fo excellent, and fo truly perfeé as 
that of thankfulnefs to God; and confequently nothing 
is of more importance in religion, than that which exer- — 

cifes and improves this habit of mind. 

A dull, uneafy, complaining f{pirit, which i is initines { 
the {pirit of thofe that feem careful of religion, is yet of | 
all tempers the moft contrary to religion, for it difowns. 
that Ged which it pretends to adore. Forhe fufficiently 
difowns God, who dees not adore him as a being of i in- 
finite goodnefs. a 

If a man does not believe that all'the world is as Ps 
family, where nothing happens by chance, but 
guided and direéted by the care and providence of 
ing that is all love and goodnefs ‘to all his ereatu 
a man do not believe this from his heart, he c 
faid truly to believe in God. And yet he th 


en 


+. 
. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 265 


faith, hath faith enough to overcome the world, and al- 
ways be thankful to God. For he that believes that 
every thing happens to him for the beft, cannot poffibly 
complain for the want of fomething that is better. 

If therefore you live m murmurings and complaints, 
accufing all the accidents of life, it is not becaufe you 
are a weak, infirm creature, but it is becaufe you want 


_ the firft principle of religion, a right belief in God. For 


as thankfulnefs is an exprefs acknowledgment of the 
goodnefs of God, towards you, fo repinings and com- 
plaints are as plain accufations of God’s want of good- 
nefs towards you. 

On the other hand, would you know who is the 
greateft faint in the world? It is not he who prays moft, 
or fafts moft ; it is not he who gives moft alms, or is 
mofi eminent for temperance, chaftity, or juftice ; but 
it is he who is always thankful to God, who wills every 
thing that God willeth, who receives every thing as an 
inftance of God’s goodnefs, and hasa heart always ready 
to praife God for it. : 

All prayer and devotion, faftings and repentance, 
meditation and retirement, all facraments and ordi- 
nances, are but fo many means to render the foul thus 
divine and conformable to the will of God, and to fili 
it with thankfulnefs and praife for every thing that comes 
from God. This is the perfection of all virtues ; and 
all virtues that do not tend to it, or proceed from it, are 
but fo many falfe ornaments of a foul not converted 
unto God. 

You need not therefore now wonder, that I lay fo 
much ftrefs upon finging a pfalm at all your-devotions, 
fince you fee it is to form your fpirit to fuch joy and 
thankfulnefs to God, as is the higheft perfeétion of a di- 
vine and holy hfe, 

If any one would tell you the fhorteft, fureft way to 
all happinefs, and all perfection, he muft tell you to 
make it a rule to yourfelf, to thank and praife God for 
every thing that happens to you. For it is certain, that 
whatever feeming calamity happens to you, if you thank 

aad praife God for it, you turn it into a blefiing. Could 
_ you therefore work miracles, you could not do more for 
“yourfelf, than by this thankful fpirit, for it heals with 


oa s > 
Etat 
a Ss 
he - 
. 


204 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ~ 


ured fpeakfng, and turns all that it touches into hap- 
pinefs, . 

If therefore you would be fo true to your eternal in-. 
tereft, as to propofe this thankfulnefs as the end of all 
your religion ; if you would but fettle it in your mind, 
that this was the ftate that you was to aim at by all 
your devotions ; you would then have fomething plain 
and vifible to walk by in all your aétions, you would 
then eafily fee the effeét of your virtues, and might 
fafely judge of your improvement in piety. For fo far 
as you renounce all felfifh tempers and motions of your 
own will, and feek for no other happinefs, but in the 
thankful reception of every thing that happens to you, 
fo far you may be fafely reckoned to have advanced in 
piety. 7 +f 

And although this be the higheft temper that you 
can aim at, though it be the noblecft facrifice that the 
greateft faint can offer unto God, yet it is not tied to ~ 
any time, or place, or great occafion, but is always in 
your power, and may be the exercife of every day. For 
the common events of every day are fufficient to dif- 
cover and exercife this temper, and may plainlygfhew you~ 
how far you are governed in all your attions by this 
thankful fpirit. 

And for this reafon I exhort you to this method in | 
your devotion, that every day may be made a day of 
thankfgiving, and that the fpirit of murmur and difcon- 
tent may be unable to enter into the heart, which is fo 
often employed in finging the praifes of God. 7 

It may perhaps after all be objeéted, that although — 
the great benefit, and excellent effects of this practice, — 
are very apparent, yet it feems not altogether fo fit for 
private devotions ; fince it can hardly be performed with- 
eut making our devotions public to other people, and 
feems alfo liable to the charge of founding a trumpet at - 
our prayers. 

It is therefore anfwered, Fir/?, that great numbers 
of people have it in their power to be as private as they 
pleafe ; fuch perfons therefore are excluded from this 
excufe, which however it may be fo to others, is” 
to them. ‘Therefore let fuch take the benefit of 
cellent devotion. 4 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 205 


Secondly, numbers of people are by the necefiity of 
their ftate, as fervants, apprentices, prifoners, and fami- - 
lies in {mall houfes, forced to be continually in the pref- 
ence or fight of fomebody or. other. 

Now are fuch perfons to negle&t their prayers, be- 
eaufe they cannot pray without being feen? Are they 
not rather obliged to be more exact in them, that others 
may not be witnefles of their negle&t, and fo corrupted 
by their example ? 

Now what is here faid of devotion, may furely be 
faid of this chanting a pfalm, which is only a part of 
devotion. 

The rule is this ; Don’t pray that you may be feen 
of men, but if your confinement obliges you to be al- 
ways in the fight of others, be more afraid of being 
feen to negle€t, than of being feen to have recourfe to 
prayer. 

Thirdly, 'The ftate of the matter is this. Either peo- 
ple can ufe fuch privacy in this praCtice, as to -have no 
hearers, or they cannot. If they can, then this objec- 
tion vanifhes as to them; and if they cannot, they fhould 
‘confider their confinement, and the neceffities. of their 
ftate, as the confinement of a prifon; and then they 
have an excellent pattern to follow, they may imitate St. 
Paul and Silas, who fang praifes to God in prifon, 
. though we are exprefsly told, that the prifoners heard 
them. They therefore did not refrain from this kind of 
devotion for fear of being heard by others. If therefore 
any One is in the fame neceffity, either in prifon or out 
of prifon, what can he do better, than to follow this ex- 
ample ? 

I cannot pafs by this place of fcripture, without de- 
firing the pious reader to obferve how ftrongly we are 
here called upon to this ufe of pfalms, and what a mighty 
recommendation of it, the practife of thefe two great 
faints is. 

In this their great diftrefs in prifon, in chains, under 
the forenefs of ftripes, in the horror of night, the di- 
vinelt, holieft thing they could do, was to fing pray ; 
unto God. - ss oe 

_ And fhall we, after this, need any exhortation to this 
holy praétice ? Shall we let the day pafs without fuch 


206 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


thankfgivings as they would not negle& in the night ?. 
Shall a prifon, chains and darknefs, furnith them with 
fongs of praife, and fhall we have no fingings i in our 
elofets ? 

Further, let it alfo be obferved, that while thefe two 
holy men were thus employed in the moft exalted 
part of devotion, doing that on earth, which angels do 
in heaven, that the foundations of the prifon were fhaken, 
all the doors were opened, and every one’s hands were 
toofed. As xvi. 26. 

“and fhall we now afk for motives to this divine ex~ 
ercife, when, inftead of arguments, we have here fuch 
miracles to convince us of this mighty power with 
God? 

Could God by a voice from heaven more exprefsly 
call us to thefe fongs of praife, than by thus fhewi 
us, how he hears, delivers, and rewards thofe that u 
them ? pad 5 

But this by the way. I now return to the objeCtion 
in hand ; and anfwer, Fourthly, That the privacy of 
our prayers, is not deftroyed by our having, but by our 
feeking witneffes of them. 

If therefore nobody hears you but thofe you cannot 
feparate yourfelf from, you are as much in fecret, and — 
your Father who feeth in fecret, will as truly reward 
your fecrecy, as if you was feen by himalone. 

Fifthly, Private prayer, as it is oppofed to prayer in 
public, does not fuppofe that no one is to have any wit. — 
refs of it. For hufbands and wives, brothers and filters, — 
parents and children, mafters and fervants, tutors and q 
pupils, are to be witneffes to one another of fuch devo- — 
tion, as may truly and properly be called private. It — 
is far from being a duty to conceal fuch devotion from — " 
fuch near relations. ;: 

In all thefe cafes therefore, where fuch relations fome. _ 
times pray together in private, and fometimes apart by 
themfelves, the chanting of a pfalm can have nothing — : 
objected againit it. “ant 

Our bleffed Lord, commands us when we fatt, to 
anoint our heads and wafb our faces, that awe appear not "4 
unto men to faft, but unio our Faiher which is in feerete 


s 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 207 


But this only means, that we muft not make public 
oftentation to the world of our fafting. . 

. For if no one was to faft in private, or could be faid 
to faft in private, but he that had no witnefles of it, no 
one could keep a private faft, but he that lived by him- 
felf: for every family muft know who fafts in. it. 
‘Therefore the privacy of fafting does not fuppofe fuch 
a privacy, as excludes every body from knowing it, but 
fuch a privacy as does not feek to be known abroad. 

Cornelius the devout centurion, of whom the ferip- 
ture faith, that he gave much, and prayed to God alway, 
faith unto St. Peter, Four days ago, I was fafting uniil 
this hour, A&ts x. 2. 
~ Now that this fafting was fufficiently private and 
acceptable to God, appears from the vifion of an an- 
gel, with which the holy man was -blefled at that 
time. 

But that it was-not fo private, as to be entirely un- 
known to others, appears, as from the relation of it 
here, fo from what is faid in another place, that he 
called two of his houfehold fervants, and a devout foldier of 
them that waited upon him continually. So that Corne- 
lius his fafting was fo far from being unknown to his 
family, that the foldiers and they of his houfehold were 
made devout themfelves, by continually waiting upon 
him, that is, by feeing and partaking of his good 
works, 

As therefore the privacy or excellency of fafting is not 
deftroyed by being known to fome particular perfons, 
neither would the privacy or excellency of your devo- 
tions be hurt, though by chanting a pfalm you fhould 
be heard by fome of your family. | 

The whole of the matter is this. Great part of the 
world can be as private as they pleafe, therefore let 
them ufe this excellent devotion between God and 
themfelves. 

Another great part of the world muft and ought to 
have witneffes of feveral of their devotions; let them 
therefore not negle& the ufe of a pfalm at fuch times 


| i as it ought to be known to thofe with whom they live, 


that they do not negle& their prayers. For furely, there 
ome be no harm in being known to be finging a pfalm, 
§ 2 


208 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


at fuch times as it ought to be known that yer are at 
your prayers. 

And if at other times you defire to be in n fuch hechily 
at your devotions, as to have nobody fufpeé it, and for 
that reafon forbear your pfalm ; I have nothing to ob- 
je&t againft it ; provided, that at the known hours of 
prayer, you never omit this practice. 

For who would not be often doing that in the’ days 
which St. Paul and Silas would not negle& in the mid- 
dle of the night? And if, when you are thus finging, it 
fhould come into your head, how the prifon fhaked; and: 
the doors opened, when St. Paul fang, it vari do your: 
devotion no harm. 

Laftly, Seeing our imaginations have dent power 
ever our hearts, and can mightily affe@ us with their re~ 
prefentations, it would be of great ufe to you, if at the: 
beginning of your devotions, you was to imagine to’ 
yourfelf fome fuch reprefentations, as might heat and 
warm your heart into a temper fuitable to thofe age 
that you are then about to offer unto God. 

As thus; before you begin your pialm of praife and 
rejoicing in God, make this ufe of your imagination. 

Be ftill, and imagine to yourfelf, that you faw the 
heavens open, and the glorious choirs of cherubims and’ 
feraphims about the throne of God. Imagine that yow 
hear the mutic of thofe angelic voices that ceafe not day 
and night to fing the glories of him that is, and was, and 
is to come. yin 

Help your imaginations wichita pullages oi ferip= 
ture as thefe. Rev. vii. 9. “* I beheld, and lo, in heav-' 
en a great multitude which no man could number, of all — 
nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, ftanding — 
before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with ~ 
white robes, and palms in their hands. And they cried 
with aloud voice, Salvation to our God which er 
upon ‘the throne, and unto the Lamb. : a ) 

And all the angels ftood round about the bes 
fell before the throne on their faces, and. worfhi 
God, faying, Amen: Bleffing, and glory, and, 
and ftrength, be unto God, for ever and ever. 

Think upon this, till your imagination has cai 
above the clouds, till it has placed you amor 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 209 


heavenly beings, and made you long to bear a part ia 
their eternal mufic. 

If you will but ufe yourfelf to this method, and let 
your imagination dwell among fuch reprefentations as 
thefe, you will foon find it an excellent means of raifing 
the fpirit of devotion within you. 

Always therefore begin your pfalm or fong of praife, 
with thefe imaginations ; and at every verfe of it, imag- 
ine yourfelf amongft thofe heavenly companions, that 
your voice is added to theirs, and that angels join with 
you, and you with them ; and that you with a poor and 
low voice, are finging that on earth, which they are 
finging in heaven. 

Again, Sometimes imagine that you had been one of 
thofe that joined with our bleffed Saviour when he fung 
an hymn. | Strive to imagine to yourfelf, with what maj- 
efty he looked ; fancy that you had ftood clofe by him, 
furrounded with his glory. Think how your heart would 
have: been inflamed, what ecttafies of joy you would 
have then felt, when finging with the Son of God. 
Think again and again, with what joy and devotion 
you would then have fung, had this been really your 
happy ftate, and what a punifhment you fhould have 
thought it, to have been then filent ; and let this teach 
you how to be affected with pfalms and hymns of 
thankfgiving. 

Again, Sometimes imagine to yourfelf, that you faw 


- holy David with his hands upon his harp, and his eyes 


fixed upon heaven, calling with tranfport on the crea- 
tion, fun and moon, light and darknefs; day and night, 
men and angels, to join with his rapturous foul in praif- 
ing the Lord of heaven. 

Dwell upon this imagination, till you think you are 
finging with this divine mufician, and let fuch a com- 
panion teach yeu to exalt your heart unto God in the 
following pfalm ; which you may ufe conftantly firft in 
the morning, 

Pfalm cxlv. J will magnify thee,O God my King: £ 


will praife thy name for ever and ever, &c. 


Thefe following pfalms, as the 34th, 96th, 108d, 


‘111th, 146th, 147th, are fuch as wonderfully fet forth 
the glory of God: and therefore you may keep to any 


a ae 


216 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


one of them at any particular hour, as you like: or 
you may take the fineft parts of any pfalms, and fo add- 
ing them together, may make them fitter for ron own 


devotion. 


Bebe | : 
CHAP. XVI. 


Recommending devotion at nine o *clock in the morning, called 
in fcripture, the third hour of the day. The fubje& of 
thefe prayers, is humility. 

I AM now come to another hour of: prayer, 
which in {cripture is called the third hour of the day ; 
but according to our way of numbering the hours, it is 
called the ninth hour of the morning. 

The devout Chriftian muft at this time look upon him- 
felf as called upon by God to renew his aéts of prayer, 
and addrefs himfelf again to the throne of grace. 

There is indeed no exprefs command in feripture to 
repeat our devotions at this hour. But then it is to be 
confidered alfo, that neither is there an exprefs command. 
to begin and end the day with prayer. So that if that 
be looked upon as a reafon for negle€ting devotion at 
this hour, it may as well be urged as a reafon for negle&t- 
ing devotion both at the beginning and end of the 
da 

But if the praCtice of the faints in all ages of the — 
world, if the cuftoms of the pious Jews and primitive 
Chriftians be of any force with us, we have authority — 
enough to perfuade us, to make this hour a conftant j 
feafon of devotion. an 

The fcriptures fhew us how this hour was confecrated 4 
to devotion, both by Jews and Chriftians : fo that if 
defire to number ourfelves amongft thofe whofe | 
were devoted unto God, we muft not let this hour 
without prefenting us to him in fome folemnities 
votion. And befide this authority for this practic 
reafonablenefs of it is fufficient to invite us to theig 0 
ance of it, ‘ a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2ib 


For if you was up at a good time in the morning, 
your firft devotions will have been at a proper diftance 
from this hour: you will have been long enough at 
other bufinefs, to make it proper for you to return to 
this greateft of all bufinefs, the raifing your foul and 
affections unto God. ; 

But if you have rifen fo late, as to be hardly able to 
begin your firft devotions at this hour, which is proper 
for your fecond, you may thence learn that the indulging 
yourfelf in the morning fleep is no {mall matter ; fince it 
fets you fo far back in your devotions, and robs you of 
thofe graces and bleflings, which are obtained by fre- 
quent prayers. 

For if prayer has power with God, if it loofes the 
bards of fin, if it purifies the foul, reforms our hearts, 
and draws down the aids of divine grace ; how can that 
be reckoned a {mall matter, which robs us of an hour of 
prayer ? 

Imagine yourfelf fomewhere placed in the air, asa 
{pe&tator of all that paffes in the world; and that you 
faw in one view, the devotions which all Chriftian people 
offer unto God every day. Imagine that you faw fome 
pioufly dividiag the day and night, as the primitive 
Chriftians did, and conftant at all hours of devotion, 
finging pfalms, aud calling upon God, at all thofe times, 
that faints and martyrs received their gifts and graces 
from God. 

Imagine that you faw others living without any rules, 
as to times and frequency of prayer, and only at their 
devotions fooner or later, as fleep and lazinefs happens 
to permit them. 

Now if you was to fee this, as God fees it, how do 
you fuppofe you fhould be affected with this fight ? 
What judgment do you imagine you fhould pafs upon 
thefe different forts of people ? Could you think, that 
thofe who were thus exaé in their rules of devotion, got 

_ nothing by their exa€tnefs ? Could you think, that their 
prayers were received juft in the fame manner, and pro-~ 
cured them no more bleffings, than theirs do, who pre- 

_ fer lazinefs and indulgence to times and rules of devo. 

| tion ? 
_ Gould you take the one to be as true fervants of God, 


matey oie 4 
212 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


as the other? Could you imagine, that thofe who were " 
thus different in their lives, would find no difference i in 
their ftates after death ? Could you think ita matter of 
pater 2G to which of thefe people you were moft 
like ? 

If not, let it be now your care to join yourfelf to that 
number of devout people, to that fociety of faints, 
amongft whom you defire to be found, when you leave 
the world. 

And although the bare number and repetition of our 
prayers is of little value, yet fince prayer rightly and at- 
tentively performed, is the moft natural means of amend- 
ing and purifying our hearts ; fince importunity and fre- 
quency in prayer is as much preffed upon us by {ferip- 
ture, as prayer itfelf, we may be fure, that when we are 
frequent and importunate in our prayers, we are taking 
the beft means of obtaining the higheft benefits of a de- 
yout life. 

And on the other hand, they who caebiigts negligence, 
lazinefs, or any other indulgence, render themfelves 
either unable, or uninclined to obferve rules and hours of 
devotion, we may be fure, that they deprive themfelves 
of thofe graces and bleflings which an exaét and fervent 
devotion procures from God. ‘ 

Now as this frequency of prayer is founded in the 
doGtrines of fcripture, and recommended to us by the 
practice of the true worfhippers of God; fo we ought 
not to think ourfelves excufed from it, but where we 
can fhew, that we are {pending our time in fuch bufi- — 
nefs, as is more acceptable to God, than thefe returns of — 
prayer. P 

Leaft of all muft we imagine, that dulnefs, negligence, 
indulgence, or diverfions, can be any pardonable excufes — 
for our not obferving an exaét and frequent method of a 
devotion. 

If you are of a devout fait) you will rejoice at thefe 
returns of prayer, which keep your foul in an holy enjoy= 
ment of God ; which change your paffions into divine — 
love, and fill your heart with ftronger joys and confola- — 
tions, than you can poflibly meet with in any thing 

And if you are not of a devout fpirit, then Cm 
moreover obliged to this frequency of prayer, 1 oun 


DEVOUT AND HOLY. LIFE. aig 


and exercife your heart into a true fenfe and feeling of 


. devotion. 


Now feeing the holy fpirit of the Chriftian religion, 
and the example of the faints of all ages, calls upon you 
thus to divide the day into hours of prayer ; fo it will 
be highly beneficial to you, to make a right choice of 
thofe matters which are to be the fubjeét of your prayers, 
and to keep every hour of prayer appropriated to fome 
particular fubje€&, which you may alter or enlarge, ac- 
cording as the flate you are in requires. : 

By this means, you will have an opportunity of being 
large and particular in all the parts of any virtue or 
grace, which you then make the fubje& of your prayers, 


_ And by afking for it in all its parts, and making it the 


fubftance of a whole prayer once every day, you will 
foon find a mighty change in your heart ; and that you 


cannot thus conftantly pray for all the parts of any 


virtue every day of your life, and yet live the reft of the 
day contrary to it. 

If a worldly-minded man was to pray every day 
againft all the inftances of a worldly temper ; if he fhould 
make a large defcription of the temptations of covetouf. 


 nefs, and defire God to affift him to rejeé& them all, 


and to difappoint him in all his covetous defigns, he 
would find his confcience fo much awakened, that he 
would be forced either to forfake fuch prayers, or to for-. 
fake a worldly life. 

The fame will hold true, in any other inftance. And 
if we afk, and have not, it is becaufe we afk amifs. Be- 
caufe we afk in cold and general forms, fuch as only 
name the virtues without defcribing their particular parts, 
fuch as are not enough particular to onr condition, and 
therefore make no change in our hearts. Whereas when 
a man enumerates all the parts of any virtue in his. 
prayers, his confcience is thereby awakened, and he is 
frightened at feeing how far fhort he is of it. And this 


 ftirs him up to an ardour in devotion, when he fees 


how much he wants of that virtue which he is praying 


for. h 


I have in the laft chapter laid before you the excel- 


| dency of praife and thankfgiving, and recommended that 
a8 the fubjeé& of your firft devotions in the morning. 
AG 


a4 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


And becaufe an humble ftate of foul is the 
ef religion, becaufe humility is the life and foul of fx 
the foundation and fupport of every virtue and ' 
work, the beft guard and fecurity of all holy affetons 5 r 
I fhall recommend humility to you, as highly proper to 
be made the conftant fubje&t of your devotions, at this 
third hour of the day ; earneftly defiring you to think 
no day fafe, or likely to end well, in which you have not 
thus early put yourlelf in this pofture of humility, and 
called upon God to carry you through the day i in the 
exercife of a meek and lowly {pirit. 

This virtue is fo effential to the right ftate of our 
fouls, that there is no pretending to a reafonable or pi- 
ous life without it. We may as well think to fee with- 
out eyes, or live without breath, as to live in the fpirit 
of religion, without the fpirit of humility. . 

And althou,h it is thus the foul and effence of all re- 
Higious duties, yet is it, generally fpeaking, the leaft un- 
deritood, the leaft regarded, the leaft intended, the leaft — 
defired, and fought after, of all other virtues, amongft 
all forts of Chriitians. : 

No people have more occafion to be afraid of the ap- 
proaches of pride, than thofe who have made fome ad- 

‘vances in a pious life. For pride can grow as well upon 
eur virtues as our vices, and fteals upon us on Soo occa 
fions. ‘ 

Every good thought that we have, every good aed 
that we do, lays us open to pride, and expofes us wr 
aflaults of vanity and felf-fatisfaGtion. . 

It is not only the beauty of our perfons, ‘the gifts ie ; 
fortune, or our natural talents, and the diftin@ions of 
life ; but even our devotions and alms, our faftings and 
humiliations, expofe us to frefh and fie dow aroma ; 
of this evil {pirit. fi 

And it is for this reafon, that I fo’ earneftly adi 
every devout perfon to begin every day in this « 
of humility, that he may go on in fafety under the 
tection of his good guide, and uot falla facrifice 
own progrefs in thofe virtues, which are to cme 
from deftrution. i 

Humility does not confift in having a wor 
of ourfelves than we deferve, or in abafing 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 215 


~ lower-than we really are. But as all virtue is’ founded 
jn truth, fo humility is founded in a true and juft fenfe 
of our weaknefs, mifery, and fin. He that rightly feels 

- and lives in this fenfe of his condition, lives in humility. 

The weaknefs of our ftate appears from our inability 
to do any thing, as of ourfelves. In our natural fate 
we are entirely without any power ; we are indeed ative 
beings, but can only act by a power, that is every mo- 
ment lent us from God. : 

We have no more power of our own to move a hand, 
or ftir a foot, than to move the fun, or ftop the clouds. 

When we fpeak a word, we feel no more power in 
ourfelves to do it, than we feel ourfelves able to raife the 
dead. For we a& no more within our own power, or 
by our own ftrength, when we {peak a word, or make a 
found, than the apoftles ated within their own power, 
or by their own ftrength, when a word from their mouth 
caft out devils, and cured difeafes. 

As it was folely the power of God that enabled them 
to {peak to fuch purpofes, fo it is folely the power of God 
that enables us to fpeak at all. 

We indeed find that we can fpeak, as we find that we 
are alive ; but the actual exercife of {peaking is no more 
in our own power, than the a€tual enjoyment of life. 

This is the dependent helplefs poverty of our ftate ; 

which is a great reafon for humility. For fince we nei- 
ther are, nor can do any thing of ourfelves, to be proud 
of any thing that we are, or of any thing that we can 
do, and to afcribe glory to ourfelves for thefe things, as 
our own ornaments, has the guilt both of ftealing and 
lying. It has the guilt of ftealing as it gives to ourfelves 
thofe things which only belong to God. It has the 
guilt of lying as it is the denying the truth of our ftate, 
and pretending to be fomething that we are not. 
: Secondly, Another argument for humility, is founded 
, in the mifery of our condjtion. 
| Now the mifery of our condition appears in this, that 
we ufe thie borrowed powers of our nature, to the tor- 
ment and vexation of ourfelves, and our fellow-crea- 
- tures. ; * 
God Almighty has entrufted us with the ufe of reafon, 
and we ufe it to the diforder and corruption of our na- 
> , : 


216 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


ture. We reafon ourfelves into all ‘kinds of folly and 
mifery, and make our lives the {port of foolith and extrav- 
agant paflions: Seeking after imaginary happinefs. in 
all kinds of fhapes, creating to ourfelves a thoufand 
wants, amufing our hearts with falfe hopes and fears, 
ufing the world worfe than irrational animals, envying, 
vexing and tormenting one another with reftlefs paffions, 
and unreafonable contentions. Taree 

Let any man but look back upon his own life, and 
fee what ufe he has made of his reafon, how little he has. 
confulted it, and how lefs he has followed it. What 
foolifh paffions, what vain thoughts, what needlefs la- 
bours, what extravagant projeéts, have taken up the 
greateft part of his life. How foolifh he has been in 
his words and converfation ; how feldom he has done 
well with judgment, and how often he has been kept 
from doing ill by accident ; how feldom she has been 
able to pleafe himfelf, and hew often he has difpleafed 
others ; how often he has changed his counfels, hated 
what he loved, and loved what he hated ; how often he 
has been enraged and tranfported at trifles, pleafed and 
difpleafed with the very fame things, and conftantly — 
changing from one vanity to another. Leta man but 
take this view of his own life, and he will fee reafon 
enough to confefs, that pride was not made for man. 

Let him but confider, that if the world knew all that 
of him, which he knows of himfelf ; if they faw what 
vanity and paffions govern his infide, and what fecret 
tempers fully and corrupt his beft a€tions, he would have 
no more pretence to be honoured and admired for his 
goodnefs and wifdom, than a rotten and diftempered — 
body to be loved and admired for its beauty and comeli- 
nefs. se , 

This is fo true, and fo known to the hearts of almoft — 
all people, that nothing would appear more dreadful to 
them, than to have their hearts thus fully difcovered to 
the eyes of all beholders. ft 

And perhaps there are very few people in the world, 
who would not rather choofe to die, than to have all €) 
fecret follies, the errors of their judgments, the 
of their minds, the falfenefs of their pretences, the 


quency of their vain and diforderly paflions, their uneafi- 


BL VYUU LS S44Ne4 240/24 Shits wae 


 nefs, hatreds, envies, and vexations, made known unto . 


the world. 
And fhall pride be entertained ina heart thus confcious 


of its own miferable behaviour ? 


Shall a creature in fuch a condition, that he could not 


fupport himfelf under the fhame of beiag known to the 


world in his real ftate; fhall fuch a creature, becaufe his 
fhame is only known to God, to holy angels, and his 
own confcience ; fhall he, in the fight of God and holy 
angels, dare to be vain and proud of himfelf ? 

Thirdly, If to this we add the fhame and guilt of fin, 
we fhall find a ftill greater reafon for humility. 

No creature that had lived in innocence, would have 
thereby got any pretence for {elf-honour and efteem 5 


-becaufe as a creature, all that it is, or has, or does, is 


from God, and therefore the honour of all that belongs 
to it, is only due to God. . 

But if a creature that is a finner, and under the dif- 
pleafure of the great governor of all,the world, and de- 
ferving nothing from him, but pains and punifhments for 
the fhameful abufe of his powers ; if fuch a creature 
pretends to felf-glory for any thing that he is, or does, 
he can only be faid/to glory in his fhame. 

Now how montftrous and fhameful the nature of fin is, 
is fufficiently apparent from that great atonement that is, 
neceflary to cleanfe us from the guilt of it. 

Nothing lefs has been required to take away the guilt 
of our fins, than the fufferings and death of the Son of 
God. Had he not taken our nature upon him, our na- 
ture had been for ever feparated from God, and incapa- 


_ ble of ever appearing before him. 


And is there any room for pride or felf-glory, whilft 


we are partakers of fuch a nature as this? 


Have our fins rendered us fo abominable and odious 
to him that made us, that he could not fo much as receive 


. Our prayers, or admit our repentance, till the Son of God 


made himfelf man, and became a fuffering advocate for 


. our whole race ;. and can we in this ftate pretend to high 


ea. 
iat. 


thoughts of ourfelves ? Shall we prefume to take delight 
in our own worth, who are not worthy fo much as to 
afk pardon for our fins, without the mediation and in- 


terceffion of the Son of God ? 


218 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in thefe 
‘deplorable circumftances of our condition ; which fhew, 
that it is as great an offence againft truth, and the rea- 
fon of things, for a man in this ftate of things to lay 
claim to any degrees of glory, as to pretend to the hon- 
our of creating himfelf. If man will boaft of any thing 
as his own, he muft boaft of his mifery and fin ; for there 
is nothing elfe but this, that is his own property. 

Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy that you 
faw what is doing there ; that you faw cherubims and 
feraphims, and all the glorious inhabitants of that place, 
all united in one work ; not feeking glory from one 
another, not labouring their own advancement, not con- 
templating their own perfeCtions, not finging their own 
praifes, not valuing themfelves, and defpifing others, but 
all employed in one and the fame work ; all happy in 
one and the fame joy ; caffing down their crowns before 
the throne of God, giving glory, and honour, and power te, 
him alone, Rev. iv. 10, 11. a cS 

Then turn your eyes to the fallen world, and confider 
how unreafonable and odious it muft be, for fuch poor’ 
worms, fuch miferable finners, to take delight in their 
own fancied glories, whilft the higheft and moft. glorious 
fons of heaven, feek for no other greatnefs and honour, 
but that of afcribing all honour and greatnefs, and glory 
to God alone? . “4 

Pride is only the diforder of the fallen world, it has 
no place amongtt other beings ; it can only fubfift where 
ignorance and fenfuality, lies and falfehood, lufts and im- 
purity reign. 

Let aman, when he is moft delighted with his own 
figure, look upon a crucifix, and contemplate our blefled 
Lord ftretched out, and nailed upon a crofs ; andthen 
let him confider, how abfurd it muft be, for a heart full 99 
of pride and vanity, to pray to God, through the fuffer- 
ings of fuch a meek and crucified Saviour ? > 

Thefe are the reflections that you are often to me 
tate upon, that you may thereby be difpofed to wall 
fore God and man in fuch a fpirit of humility, as bee: 
the weak, miferable, finful ftate of all that are defce 
from fallen Adam. ‘ ' 

When you have by fuch general refle€tions as thefe, 


_ ee a 
: 


j= 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 219 


convinced your mind of the reafonablenefs of humility, 
you muft not content yourfelf with this, as if you was 
therefore humbled, becaufe your mind acknowledges the 
reafonablenefs of humility, and declares againft pride. 
But you muift immediately enter yourfelf into the prac. 
tice of this virtue, like a young beginner, that has all of 
if to learn, that can learn but little at a time, and with 
great difficulty. You muft confider, that you have not 
only this virtue to learn, but that you muft be content 
to proceed as a learner in it all your time, endeavour- 
ing after greater degrees of it, and praCtifing every day 
aéts of humility, as you every day praétife ads of de- 
votion. 

You would not imagine yourfelf to be devout, becaufe 
in your judgment you approyed of prayers, and often 
declared your mind in favour of devotion. Yet how 
many people imagine themfelves humble enough for no 
other reafon, but becaufe they often commend humility, 
and make vehement declarations againft pride ? 

Czcus is arich man, of good birth, and very fine parts, 
he is fond of drefs, curious in the fmalleft matters that 
can add any ornament to his perfon. He is haughty 
and imperious to all his inferiors, is very full of every 
thing that he fays or does, and never imagines it poffible 
for fuch a judgment as his to be miftaken. He can bear 
no contradiction, and difcovers the weaknefs of your un- 
derftanding, as foon as ever you oppofe him. He changes 
every thing in his houfe, his habit, and his equipage, as 
often as any thing more elegant comes in his way, 
Czcus would have been very religious, but that he al- 
ways thought he was fo. “ 

There is nothing fo odious to Cecus as a proud man 3 
and the misfortune is, that in this he is fo very quick- 
fighted, that he difcovers in almoft every body, fome 
ftrokes of vanity. ‘ 

On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble 
and modeft perfons. Humility, fays he, is fo amiable a 
quality, that it forces our efteem wherever we meet 
with it. There is no pofitbility of defpifing the mean- 
eit perfon that has it, or of efteeming the greateft man 
that wants it. 


_ Czcus no more fufpects himfelf to be proud, thgp be 


L 
| 


Pe i 


220 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


fufpeGts his want of fenfe. And the reafon of it is, be- 
caufe he always finds himfelf in love with humility, and 
fo enraged at pride. 

It is very true, Czecus, you fpeak fincerely when you 
fay you love humility, and abhor pride. You are no 
hypocrite, you {peak the true fentiments of your mind ; 
but then take this along with you, Cecus, that you énly 
love humility, and hate pride, im other people. You 
never once in your life thought of any other humility, 
or of any other pride, than that which you have feen i in 
other people. 

The cafe of Czcus is a common eafe ; many pede 
live in all the imftances of pride, and indulge every van- 
ity that can enter into their minds, and yet never fuf- 
pet themfelves to be governed by pride and vanity, 
becaufe they know how much they diflike proud people, 
and how mightily they are pleafed with Say 4 
modefty, wherever they find them. 

All their fpeeches in favour of humility, and all their 
railings againit pride, are looked upon as fo many true 
exercifes, and effe&ts of their own humble fpirit. 

Whereas in truth, thefe are fo far from being proper 
atts, or proofs of humility, that they are great =) tet 
of the want of it. 

For the fuller of pride any one is himfelf, the more - 
impatient will he be at the {malleft inftances of it in other 
people. And the lefs humility any one has in his own 
mind, the more will he demand, and be delighted with 
it in other people. 

You muft therefore a& by a quite contrary meafure, 
and reckon yourfelf only fo far humble, as you impofe — 
every inftance of humility upon yourfelf, and never call | . 
for it in other people. So far an enemy to pride, as you 
never {pare it in yourtelf, nor even cenfure it in other — 
perfons. a] 

Now in order to do this, you need only confider, 
that pride and humility fignify nothing to you, b 
far as they are your own ; that they do you neither ; 
nor harm, but as they are the tempers of your 
heart. 

dag loving therefore of humility is of no hes t 


tage to you, but fo far as you love to fee 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 221 


own thoughts, words and actions governed by it... And 
the hating of pride does you no good, is no perfection 
in you, but fo far as you hate to harbour any degree of 
it in your own heart. 

Now in order to begin, and fet out well in the prac- 
tice of humility, you muft take it for granted, that you 
are proud, that you have all your life been more or lefs 
infeéted with this unreafonable temper. 

You fhould believe alfo, that it is your greateft weak- 
nefs, that your heart is moft fubje& to it, that it is fo con- 
ftantly ftealing upon you, that you have reafon to watch 
and fufpeé its approaches in all your aétions. 

For this is what moft people, efpecially new begin- 
ners in a pious life, may with great truth think of them- 
felves. ' 

For there is no one vice that is more deeply rooted in 
our nature, or that receives fuch conftant nourifhment 
from almoft every thing that we think or do. There be- 
ing hardly any thing in the world that we want or ufe, 


or any attion or duty of life, but pride finds fome means 


or other to take hold of it. So that at what time foever 
we begin to offer ourfelves to God, we can hardly be 
furer of any thing, than that we have a great deal of 
pride to repent of. 

If therefore you find it difagreeable to your mind to 
entertain this opinion of yourfelf, and that you cannot 
put yourfelf amongft thofe that want to be cured of 
pride, you may be as fure, as if an angel from heaven 
had told you, that you have not only much, but all your 
humility to feek. 

For you can have no greater fign of a more confirmed 
pride, than when you think that: you are humble enough. 
He that thinks he loves God enough, fhews himfelf ‘to 


be an entire ftranger to that holy paffion ; fo he that 


‘thinks he has humility enough, fhews that he is not fo 


much as a beginner in the practice of true humility. 


392 A SERIOUS CALL TO A+ 


CHAP... VLE 
Shewing how difficult the praétice of humility is made, by 
__ the general {pirit and temper of the world. How Chrif- 
tianity requireth us to live contrary to the world. 


- EVERY perfon, when he firft applies himfelf to 
the exercife of this virtue of humility, muft, as I faid 
before, confider himfelf asa learner, that is, to learn 
fomething that is contrary to former tempers, and habits 
of mind, and which can only be got by daily and 
conftant practice. ‘ : 

He has not only as much to do, as he that has fome 
new art or fcience to learn ; but he has alfo a great deal 
to unlearn: He is to forget, and lay afide his own fpirit, 
which has been a long while fixing and forming itfelf ; 
he muft forget, and depart from abundance of paffions 
and opinions, which the fafhion, and vogue, and {pirit of © 
the world has made natural to him. 

He mutt lay afide his own fpirit ; becaufe, as we are 
born in fin, fo in pride, which is as natural to us as felf » 
love, and continually fprings from it. Ais this is one 
reafon why Chriftianity is fo often reprefented as a new — 
birth, and a new fpirit. my oR 

He muft lay afide the opinions and paffions which he — 
has received from the world, becaufe the vogue and ~ 
fafhion of the world, by which we haye been carried — 
away, as ina torrent, before we could pafs right judg- — 
ments of the value of things, is in many refpeéts contrary — 
to humility ; fo that we muft unlearn what the fpirit of — 
the world has taught us, before we can be governed by 
the {pirit of humility. aul 

The devil is called in fcripture the prince of 
world, becaufe he has great power in it, becaufe 
of its rules and principles are invented by this evil fp 
the father of all lies and falfehood, to feparate us fr 
God, and prevent our return to happinefs. = 


a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 293 


Now according to the fpirit and vogue of this world, 
whofe corrupt air we have all breathed, there are many 
things that pafs for great, and honourable, and moft de- 
firable, which yet are fo far from being fo, that the true 
greatnefs and honour of our nature confifts in the not 
defiring them. 

To abound in wealth, to have fine houfes and rich 
clothes, to be attended with {plendour and equipage, to 
be beautiful in our perfons, to have titles of dignity, to 
be above our fellow creatures, to command the bows and 
obeifance of other people, to be looked on with admira- 
tion, to overcome our enemies with. power, to fubdue all 
that oppofe us, to fet ourfelves in as much fplendour as 
we can, to live highly and magnificently, to eat and 
drink, and delight ourfelves in the moft coftly manner, 
thefe are the great, the honourable, the defirable things, 
to which the {pirit of the world turns the eyes of al! peo- 
ple. And many a man is afraid of ftanding ftill, and not 
engaging in the purfuit of thefe things, left the fame 
world fhould take him for a fool. 

The hiftory of the gofpel, is chiefly the hiftory of 
Chrift’s conqueft over this {pirit of the world. And the 
number of true Chriftians, is only the number of thofe 
who following the Spirit of Chrift, have lived contrary 
to this fpirit of the world. 

If any man hath not the Spirit of Chrift, he is none of his. 
Again, Whofoever is born of God, overcometh the world. 
Set your affections on things above, and not on things on the 
earth ; for ye are dead, and your life is hid with Chrift in 
Géd. ‘This is the language of the New Teftament. 
This is the mark of Chriftianity ; you are to be dead, 
that is, dead to the fpirit and temper of the world, and 

_ live a new life in the Spirit of Jefus Chrift. bit ee 
But notwithftanding the clearnefs and plainnefs o 

_ thefe doétrines which thus renounce the world, yet great 
| part of Chriftians live and die flaves to the cuftoms and. 
| temper of the world. ¢ 

__ How many people fwell with pride and vanity, for 
| fuch things as they would not know how to value at all, 
| but that they are admired in the world ? 
| Would a man take ten years more drudgery in bufi. 
nefs ta add two horfes more to his coach, but that be 


a as vee ee a 
224 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ~ 


knows, that the world moft of all admires a coach and 
fix? How fearful are many people of having their 
houfes poorly furnifhed, or themfelves meanly clothed, 
for this only reafon, left the world fhould make no ac- 
count of them, and place them amongft low and mean 
people ? “at 

How often would a man have yielded to the haughti- 
nefs and ill nature of others, and fhew a fubmiffive tem- 
per, but that he dares not pafs for fuch a poor fpirited 
man in the opinion of the world. 

Many a man would often drop a refentment, and for- 
give an affront, but that he is afraid, if he fhould, the 
world would not forgive him. xa 

How many would praétife Chriftian temperance and 
fobriety in its utmoft perfeGtion, were it not for the cen- 
fure which the world paffes upon fuch a life? 

Others have frequent intentions of living up to. 
the rules of Chriftian perfetion, which they are fright-. 
me from, by confidering what the world would fay of 

em. ak! 

Thus do the impreffions which we have received 
from living in the world enflave our minds, that we dare; 
not attempt to be eminent in the fight of God, and ho- 
ly angels, for fear of being little in the eyes of ‘the 
world, ' rahe 
From this quarter arifes the great difficulty of humil- 
ity, becaufe it cannot fubfift in any mind, but fo far as 
it is dead to the world, and has parted with all defires 
of enjoying all greatnefs and honours. So that in order 
to be truly humble, you muft unlearn all thofe notions — 
which you have been all your life learning from this cor- 
rupt {pirit of the world. ae 

You can make no ftand againft the affaults of pride 
the meek affections of humility can have no place in your 
foul, till you ftop the power of the world over you, and 
refolve againft a blind obedience to its laws. 

And when you are once advanced thus far, < 
able to ftand {till in the torrent of worldly fafhi 
opinions, and examine the worth and value 
which are moft admired and valued in the w 
have gone a great way in the gaining of your 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFZ. 225, 


and have laid a good foundation for the amendment of 

your heart. 

» For as great as the power of the world ic, it is all built 

upon a blind obedience, and we need only open our eyes, 

to get quit of its power. Atk who you will, learned or 

unlearned, every one feems to know and confefs, that the 
ral temper and {pirit of the world, is nothing elfe but 


common fpirit and temper of the world, is neither ac- 
cording to the wildom of philofophy, nor the piety of 
The world therefore feems enough condemned even 
by itfelf, to make it very eafy for a thinking man to be 
of the fame j t. 
. And therefore I hope you will not think it a hard 
faying, that in order to be humble, you mui withdraw 
your obedience from that vulgar {pirit which gives laws 
to fops and coquettes, and form your judgments accord- 
ing to the wifdom of philofophy and the piety of relig- 
jon. Who would be afraid of making fuch a change as 
this 


~ 


_ Again, To leffen your fear and regard to the 

of the world, think how foon the world will difregard 
you, and have no more thought or concern about you, 
than about the pooreft animal that died in a ditch. 


226 _A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


lie now expecting a miferable eternity, for their ferviee 

and homage to a world, that thinks itfelf every whit as 

well without them, and is juft as merry as ‘pas when 
they were in it ? 

Is it therefore worth your while to ice ‘tee, {malleft 
degree of virtue, for the fake of pleafing fo bad a matter, 
and fo falfe a friend as the world is ? 

Is it worth your while to bow the escent: Ae baal aad 
’ as this, that fo foon will have neither eyes, nor ears, nor 

a heart to regard you; inftead of ferving that great, and 
holy, and mighty God, that will make all his fervants 
partakers of his own eternity ? 

Will you let the fear of a falfe world, that has no rw 
for you, keep you from the fear of that God, who has 
only created you, that he may love and blefs you to all 
eternity ? 

Laftly, you muft confider what behaviour the profef- 
fion of Chr iflianity requireth of you, with regard to the 
world ; 

. Now this is plainly delivered in thefe words ; ; Who 
gave himfelf for our fins, that he might deliver us yuk this 
prefent evil world, Gal.i. 4. Chriftianity therefore im- 
plieth a deliverance from this world ; and he that pro- 
feffeth to live contrary to every thing, and every tempers 
that is peculiar to this evil world. 

_ St. John declareth this oppofition to the world i in this 
manner, They are of the world: therefore fpeak they of the 
world, and the world heareth them. We are- of God, 

‘ 1 John iv. 5. This is the defcription of the followers.of 
Chrift ; and it is proof enough that no people are to be 
reckoned Chriftians in reality, who in their hearts and 9 
tempers belong to this world. We knoqw, faith the fame 
apoltle, that we are of God, and the whole world licth.in 
wickedne/s, c. y. ver. 19. _ Chriftians therefore can mi 
farther know that they are of God, than fo far as 
know that they are not of the world ; that is,. that 
do not live according to the ways and {pirit of the 1 
For all the ways, and maxims, and politics, and 
of the world, lie in wickednefs. And he is only 
or born of God in Chrift Jefus, who has over 
world, that is, who has chofe to live by faith, a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 227 


his a&tions by the principles of a wifdom revealed from 

God by Chrift Jefus. 

_ St. Paul takes it for a certainty fo well known to 

Chriftians, that they are no longer to be confidered as_ 

living in this world, that he thus argues from it, as from 
. an undeniable principle, concerning the abolifhing the 
rites of the Jewifh law : Wherefore if ye be dead with Chrift 
from the rudiments of the world, why, as though living in 
the world, are ye fubjed to ordinances ? Col. ii. 20. Here 
could be no argument in this, but in the apoftles’ taking 
it for undeniable, that Chriftians knew, that their protel- 
fion required them to have done with all the tempers and 
paffions of this world, to live as citizens of the 
new Jerufalem, and to have their converfation in 
heaven. 

Our bleffled Lord himfelf has fully determined this 
‘point in thefe words : They are not of this world, as I am 
not of this world. This is the flate of Chriftianity with 
regard to this world. If you are not thus out of, and con- 
trary to the world, you want the diflinguifhing mark of 
Chriftianity ; you do not belong to Chrift, but by being 
out of the world as he was out of it. 

We may deceive ourfelves, if we pleafe, with vain and 
foftening commands upon thefe words, but they are and 
will be underftood in their firft fimplicity and plainnefs, 
by every one that reads them in the fame f{pirit that our 
bleffed Lord fpoke them. And to underftand them in 
any lower, lefs fignificant meaning, is to let carnal wif- 
dom explain away that doctrine, by which itfelf was to 
be deftroyed. 

The Chriftian’s great conqueft over the world, is all 
contained in the myftery of Chrift upon the crofs. It 
was there, and from thence, that he taught all Chriftians 
how they were to come out of, and conquer the world, 
and what they were to do in order to be his difciples. 
And all the doétrines, facraments, and inftitutions of the 
gofpel, are only fo many explications of the meaning, 
_ and applications of the benefit of this great myf- 
tery. 

_ And the ftate of Chriftianity implieth nothing elfe 
_ but an entire, abfolute conformity to that fpirit which 
ue 


228 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


Chrift fhewed in the myfterious facrifice of himfelf upen 
the crofs. 

Every man therefore, is only fo far a Chriftian as he 
partakes of this fpirit of Chrift. It was this that made 
St. Paul fo paflionately exprefs himfelf, God forbid that I 

So uld glory, fave in the crofs of our Lord Jefus Chrift : but 

why does he glory ? Is it becaufe Chrift hadfuffered in 
his ftead, and had excufed him from fuffering ? No, by 
no means. But it was becaufe his Chriftian profeffion 
had called him to the honour of fuffering with Chrift, 
and of dying to the world under reproach and contempt, 
as he had done upon the crofs. For he immediately 
adds, dy whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto 
the world, Gal. vi. 14. This you fee was the reafon 
of his glorying in the crofs of Chrift, becaufe he had 
ealled him to a like ftate of death and crucifixion to. 4 
world. 

Thus was the crofs of Chrift, in St. Paul’s days, a 
glory of Chriftians ; not as it fignified their not being 
afhamed to own a Mafter that was. crucified, but as it 
fignified their glorying in a’ religion, which was nothing 
elfe but a doGtrine of the crofs, that called them to the 
fame fuffering f{pirit, the fame facrifice of themfelves, the 
fame hemiienien of the world, the fame humility and 
meeknefs, the fame patient bearing of i injuries, reproach- 
es, and contempts, and the fame dying to all the great- — 
nefs, honours, and happinefs of the world, which Cheift | 
fhewed upon the crofs. ‘ot 2 

To have a true idea of Chriftianity, we muft not con-— 
fider our bleffed Lord as fuffering in our ftead, but as our 
reprefentative, acting in our name, and with fuch partic. 
ular merit, as to make our joining with him acceptable 
unto God. 

He fuffered, and was a facrifice, to will our fufferi 
and facrifice of ourfelves fit to be received by 
And we are to fuffer, to be crucified, to die, an 
with Chrift ; or elfe his crucifixion, death and r 
tion will profit us nothing. 

The neceffity of this conformity to all that 
and fuffered upon our account, is very pen 
whole tenor of feripture. 


Firft, As to his fufferings, this is the o yc 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 229 


of our being faved by them, if “ we fuffer with him, we 


_ fhall alfo reign with him.” 


Secondly, As to his crucifixion. ‘ Knowing this, 

that our old man is crucified with him,”?’ &c. Rom. vi. 
6. Here you fee Chrift is not crucified in our ftead 5 
but unlefs our old man be really crucified with him, the 
crofs of Clirift will profit us nothing. 
’ Thirdly, As to the death of Chrift, the condition is 
this ; “* If we be dead with Chrift, we believe that we 
fhall. alfo live with him.”? If therefore Chrift be dead 
alone, if we are not dead with him, we are as fure, from 
‘this feripture, that we fhall not live with him. 

Laftly, As to the refurreGtion of Chrift, the fcripture 

‘fheweth us how we are to partake of the benefit of it : 
« Tf ye be rifen with Chrift, feek thofe things which are 
above, where Chrift fitteth on the right hand of God,” 
Col. iii. 1. 
_ | Thus you fee how plainly the {cripture fets forth our 
bleffed Lord, as our reprefentative, ating and fuffering 
in our name, binding and obliging us to conform to all 
that he did and fuffered for us. 

' It was for this reafon, that the Holy Jefus faid of his 
difciples, and in them of all true believers, “* They are 


- not of this world, as I am not of this world.”? Becaufe 


all true believers conforming to the fufferings, crucifixion, 
death, and refurre€tion of Chrift, live no longer after the 


- fpirit and temper of this world, but their life is hid with 
Chrift in God. 


This is the ftate of feparation from the world, to which 


all orders of Chriftians are called. They mutt fo far re- 
~ nounce all worldly tempers, be fo far governed by the 
” things of another life, as to fhew, that they are truly and 


really crucified, dead, and rifen with Chrift. And it is 


‘as neceflary for all Chriftians to conform to this great 
- change of fpirit, to be thus in Chrift new creatures, as it 
» was neceffary that Chrift fhould fuffer, die, and rife again 
~ for our falvation. 


How high the Chriftian life is placed above the ways 
of this world, is wonderfully defcribed by St. Paul in 
thefe words: ‘¢ Wherefore henceforth know we no man 


‘ after the flefh ; yea though we have known Chrift after 


~ the flefh.; yet henceforth we know him no more. There- 


230 A SERIOUS CALL TO & 


fore if any man be in Chrift, he is a new creature: old 
things are pafled away ; behold all things are oanserd 
new.”? 2 Cor. v. 16. 

He that feels the force and fpirit of thefe wht ‘ean 
hardly bear any human interpretation of them. Hence- 
forth, fays he; that is, fince the death and refurre@tion 
of Chrift, the ftate of Chriftianity is beeome fo glorious 
a ftate, that we do not even confider Chrift himfelf as in 
the flefh upon earth, but as a God of glory in heaven $ 
we know and confider ourfelves not as men in the flefh, 
but as fellow-members of a new fociety, that are to 
have all our hearts, our tempers, and converlation in 
heaven. 

Thus it is that Chriftianity has placed us out of, and 
above the world.; and we fall from our calling, as foon as 
we fall into the tempers of the world. FI 

Now as it was the fpirit of the world that nailed ott 
bleffed Lord to the crofs ; fo every man that has the 
{fpirit of Chrift, that oppofes the world, as he did, 
will certainly be crucified by the world fome way y+ 
other. 

For Chriftianity ftill lives in the fame world that Chrift 
did ; and thefe two will be utter enemies, till the kn 
dom. of dayknele-ia entirely at an end. 

Had you lived with our Saviour as his true: difciple, 
you had then been hated as he was ; and if you now live 
in his {pirit, the world will be the fame enemy or, 
now, that it was to him then. ~ 

“ If ye were of the world,” faith our bleffed Ld 
“ the world would love itsown ; but becaufe ye are not _ 
of the world, but I have chofen you out of the world, F 
therefore the world hateth you,” John xv. 19. _ 

We are apt to lofe the true meaning of thefe words, — 
by confidering them only as an hiftorical -defcription of — 
fomething that was the ftate of our Saviour and his dif 
ciples at that time. But this is reading the feripture as — 
a dead letter: for they as exactly deferibe the ftate of 
true Chriftians at this, and all other times to the | en 
the world. Se 

For as.true Chriftianity is nothing elfe but the fpirit 
of Chrift, fo whether that fpirit appear in the erfon | 
Chrift himfelf, or his apottles, or sie in any age, 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 281 


it is the fame thing ; whoever hath his fpirit will be 
hated, defpifed, and condemned if the world as he 
was. 

» For the world will always love its own, and none but 
‘hs own : this is as certain and unchangeable, as the con- 
trariety betwixt light and darknefs. 

.. When the holy Jefus faith, Zf the world hate you, (he 
does not add by way of confolation, that it may fome 
time or other ceafe its hatred, or that it will not always 
hate them ; but he only gives this as a reafon for their 
bearing it,} You know that it hated me before it hated ycu : 
fignifyimg, that it was he, that is, his {pirit, that by rea- 
fon of its contrariety to the world, was then, and always 
would be hated by it. 

» You will perhaps fay, that the world is now become 
Chriftian, at leaft that part of it where we live; and 
therefore the world is not to be confidered in that ftate 
of oppofition to Chriftianity, as when it was heathen. 

It is granted, the world. now profeffeth Chriftianity, 
but will any one fay, that this Chriftian world is of the 
fpirit of Chrift? Are its general tempers the tempers of 
Chrift? Are the paffions of fenfuality, felf-love, pride, 


covetoufnefs, ambition, and vain glory, lefs contrary to 


the f{pirit of the gofpel, now they are amongft Chriftians, ~ 


than when they were amongit heathens? Or will you 
fay, that the tempers and Lier of the heathen world 
are loft and gone ? 

Confider, Secondly, What you are to mean by the 
world. Now this is fully defcribed to our hands by St. 
John. Ail that is in the world, the luft of the fle ef, the 
lift of the eyes, and the pride of life, &c. 1 John iii. 16. 
This is an exa€t and full defcription of the world. Now 
will you fay, that this world is become Chriftian ? But 
if all this ftill fubfifts, then the fame world is now in. 
being, and the fame enemy to Chriftianity, that was in 
St. John’s days. ae 

It was this world that St. John condemned, as being 
not of the Father ;. whether therefore it outwardly sn 
_ feffeth, or openly perfecuteth Chriftianity, it is -fti 
_ the fame ftate of contrariety to the true {pirit and holi. 
ee nefs of the gofpel. 

_ And indeed the world by profefling Chrittianity, is fo. 
Ba : 


933 A SERIOUS CALL TO A” 


far from being a lefs dangerous enemy than it was“bes 
fore, that it has by its favours deitroyed more Chriftians 
than ever it did by the moft violent perfecution. - a 
- We muft therefore be fo far from confidéring the 
world as in a ftate of lefs enmity and oppofition to Chrif= 
tianity, than it was in the firft times of the gofpel, that 
‘we muft guard againft it as a greater and more So oe 
enemy now, than it was in thofe times. 

It is a greater enemy, becaufe it has greater power 
ever Chriftians by its favours, riches, honours, reward 
and proteétions, than it-had by the fire and fury of ‘its 
perfecutions. 

It is a more dangerous enemy, by having loft its at 
pearance of enmity. Its outward profeffion of Chrifti- 
anity makes it no longer confidered as an enemy, and 
therefore the generality of people are eafily perfuaded 
to refign themfelves up to be governed and beebeinir dic 
it. 

How many confciences are kept as quiet, upon no 
other foundation, but becaufe they fin under the author- 
ity of the Chriftian world ? 

How many direétions of the gofpel lie by unregarded ; 
and how unconcernedly do particular perfons read them; 
for no other reafon, but becaufe they feem unregarded 
by the Chriftian world ? 

How many compliances do people make to: ‘the Chrift- 
ian world, without any hefitation, or remorfe ; which, 
if they had been required of them only by heathens, 
Chg been refufed, as contrary, to ae? holinefs of 


ftianity ? 
o could be content with feeig how coin his 
life is to the gofpel, but becaufe he fees that he lives as _— 
» the Chniftian world doth ? 7 
Who that reads the gofpel, would want to be (ibaa 
ed of the neceffity of great felf-denial, humility, and 
poverty of fpirit, but that the poset of ye World hae 
banifhed this doétrine of the crofs ? “a 
‘There is nothing therefore, that a good én 
to be more fufpicious of, or more conf 
againft, than the authority of the Chriftian 
oA at all the paflages of Scripture, which re 
world a3 contrary to Chrittianity, which requi 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE.. 238 


aration from it, as from a mammon of unrighteoufnefs, 
a moniter of iniquity, are all to be taken in the fame 
ftri&t fenfe, in relation to the prefent world. 

. For the change that the world has undergone, has 
only altered its methods, but not leffened its power of 
deftroying religion. 

_ Chriftians had nothing to fear from the heathen world, 
but the lofs of their lives ; but the world become a friend, 
makes it difficult for them to fave their religion. 

Whilft pride, fenfuality, covetoufnefs, and ambition, 
had only the authority of the heathen world, Chriftians 
were thereby made more intent upon the contrary vir- 
tues. But when pride, fenfuality, covetoufnefs, and am- 
bition, have the authority of the Chriftian world, then 
private Chriftians are in the utmoft danger, not only of 
being fhamed out of the practice, but of lofing the very 
notion of the piety of the gofpel. 

There is therefore hardly any poffibility of faving, 
yourfelf from the prefent world, but by confidering it as 
the fame wicked enemy to all true helinefs, as it is rep- 
refented in the fcriptures ; and by afluring yourfelf, 

' that it is as dangerous to conform to its tempers and paf- 
fions, now it is Chriftian, as when it was heathen. 

For only afk yourfelf, is the piety, the humility, the 
fobriety of the Chriftian world, the piety, the humility 
and fobriety of the Chriftian fpirit ? If not, how can you 
be more undone by any world, than by conforming to 
that which is Chriftian ? 

Weed a man do more to make his foul unfit for the 
mercy of God, than by being greedy and ambitious of 

honour? Yet how can a man renounce this temper, 
without renouncing the fpirit and temper of the world, 
in which you now live ? 
_... How can a man be made more incapable of the fpirit 
of Chrift, than by a wrong value for money ; and yet 
. how can he be more wrong in his value of it, than by 
_. following the authority of the Chriftian world? 
»- Nay, im every order and ftation of life, whether 
» learning or bufinefs, either ia Church or ftate, you cane 
not act up to the {pirit of religion without renouncing 
___. the moft general temper and behaviour of thofe, who are 
ef the fame order and bufinefs as yourfelf. 


2¢4 A SERIOUS CALLWEO)A ©’ 


And though human prudence feems to talk mighty. 
wifely about the neceflity of avoiding particularities, yet 
he that dares not to be fo weak as to be particular, will 
be often obliged to avoid the moft opieent ay duties. of 
Chriftian piety. 

Thefe refletions will, I hope, help. you to wore 
through thofe difficulties, and refift thofe temptations, 
which the authority aud fafhion of the world hath raifed 
againft the practice of Chriftian basal sail 


’ 
+> ‘ 4 yer 


CHAP. XVII. 
Shewing how the education which men geacrally receive im. 
their youth, makes the doétrines of humility difficult to be 
praiiifed. The fpirit of a better education; rapetfeirads 


in the charaéer of Paternus. 


* 
ANOTHER difficulty in the practice of Cocoa 
ity, arifes from our education. We are all of us, for 
the moft part, corruptly educated, and then committed to. 
take our courfe in a corrupt world ; fo that itis no won- 
der, if examples of great piety are fo feldom feen. » 
Great part of the world are undone, by being born 
and bred in families that have no religion ; where they 
are made vicious and irregular, by being like thofe witli: 
whom they firft lived. f 
‘But this is not the thing I now mean 5 the alee 
that I here intend, is fuch as children generally receive, 
from virtuous and fober parents, and learned tutors and 
governors. {7 
Had we continued perfe&t, as God created . the firf 
man, perhaps the perfe€tion of our nature had been a~ 
{ufficient ‘felf-inftruion for every one. But as ficknefs | — 
and difeafes have created the neceffity of medicines and 
phyficians, fo the change and diforder of our rational’ 
nature has introduced the neceflity of education and tu- 
wo igre oR “tei 
» And as the only end of the phyfician is, to reftore y 
ture to its own ftate ; fo the only end of education? 
to reftore our rational nature to its proper fate. Edu. 


; 
‘ 
~~ 
a 
4 


BEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 235 


cation therefore is to be confidered as reafon borrowed 
at fecond hand, which is, as far as it can, to fupply the 
lofs of original perfe€tion. And as phyfic may juftly 
be called the art of refloring health, fo education fhould 
be confidered in no other light, than as the art of recov- 
ering to man the ufe of his reafon. 

Now as the inftru€tion of every art or fcience is found- 
ed upon the difcoveries, the wifdom, experience, and 
maxims of the feveral great men that have laboured in 
it ; fo that human wifdom, or right ufe of our reafon, 
which young people fhould be called to by their educa- 
tion, is nothing elfe but the beft experience and fineft 
reafonings of men, that have devoted themfelves to the 
ftudy of wifdom, and the improvement of human na- 
ture. 

All therefore that great faints and dying men, when 
the fulleft of light and conviction, and: after the higheft 
improvement of their reafon, all that they have faid of 
the neceflity of piety, of the excellency of virtue, of their 
duty to God, of the emptinefs of riches, of the vanity of 
the world ; all the fentences, judgments, reafonings, and 
maxims of the wifeft of philofophers, when in their high- 
eft ftate of wifdom, fhould conftitute the common leffons 
of inftruGiion for youthful minds. 

This is the only way to make the young and ignorant 
part of the world the better for the wifdom and knowl- 
edge of the wife and ancient. 

™® An education which is not wholly intent upon this, is 
as much befide the point, as an art of phyfic, that had 
little or no regard to the reftoration of health. 

The youths that attended upon Pythagoras, Socrates, 
Plato, and Epictetus, were thus educated. ‘Their every 
day leffons and inftru&tions were fo many le€tures upon 
the nature of man, his true end, and the right ufe of his 
faculties ; upon the immortality of the foul, its relation 
to God, the beauty of virtue, and its agreeablenefs to the 
divine nature ; upon the dignity of reafon, the neceffity 

__ of temperance, fortitude and generofity, and the fhame 
and folly of indulging our paffions. ( ; 

Now as Chriftianity has, as it were, new created the 
‘moral and religious world, and fet every thing that is 


Teafonable, wife, holy and defirable, in its true point 


536 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


of light ; fo one would expeé, that the education of 
youth fhould be as much bettered and amended by 
Chriftianity, as the faith and doétrines of religion are 
amended by it. 

As it has introduced fuch a new ftate of things, and 
fo fully informed us of the nature of man, the ends of 
his creation, the ftate of his condition ; as it has fixed 
all our goods and evils, taught us the means of purifying 
our fouls, pleafing God, and becoming eternally happy ; 
ove might naturally fuppofe, that every Chriftian coun- 
try abounded with fchools for the teaching not only a 
few queftions and avfwers of a catechifm, but for the 
forming, trainmg and praétifing youths in fuch an out- 
ward courfe of life, as the higheft precepts, the ftri€teft 
rules, and the fublimeft doétrines of Chriftianity re- 

uire. 
i An education under Pythagoras, or Socrates, nf no 
other end, but to teach youth to think, judge, aét, and 
follow fuch rules of life, as Pythagoras and Socrates 
ufed. 

And is it not as reafonable to fuppofe, that a Chrift- | 
ian education fhould have no other end, but to teach 
youth how to think, and judge, aud ad, and live accord~ 
ing to the ftri@_ft laws of Chriftiamity ? 

‘At leaft one would fuppofe, that in all Chriftian 
fchools, the teaching youth to begin their lives in the 
fpirit of Chriftianity, in fuch feverity of behaviour, fuch 
abftinence, fobriety, humility and devotion, as Chriftianit 
requires, fhould not only be more, but an hundred fini | 
more regarded, than any, or all things elfe. iy 

For our education fhould imitate our guardian angels, 
fuggeft nothing to our minds but what is wife and holy ; 
help us to difcover and fubdue every vain paflion of our 
hearts, and every falfe judgment of our minds. ca 

Ard it is as fober and reafonable to expe& and require 
all this benefit of a Chriftian education, as to Be ; 
that phyfic fhould ftrengthen all that is right in our ma- 
ture, and remove that which is fickly and difeafed. 

But alas, our modern education is not of this ind. 

The firft temper that we try to awaken in ¢€ 
is pride ; as dangerous a paflion as that of I 
ftir them up to vain thoughts of themfelves, ane 


eats 
Me 


, 


§ - 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 237 


thing we can, to puff up their minds with a fenfe of their 
own abilities. 

Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply 
to the fire and vanity of their minds, and exhort them 
to every thing from corrupt motives : We ftir them up 
to a@ion from principles of ftrife and ambition, from 
glory, envy, and a defire of diftin@tion, that they may 
excel others, and fhine in the eyes of the world. 

We repeat and inculcate thefe motives upon them, 
till they think it a part of their duty to be proud, envi- 
ous, and vain-glorious of their own accomplifhments. 

And when we have taught them to fcorn to be out- 
done by any, to bear no rival, to thirft after every in- 
{tance of applaufe, to be content with nothing but the 
higheft diftin€tions ; then we begin to take comfort in 
them, and promife the world fome mighty things from 
youths of fuch a glorious fpirit. 

If children are intended for holy orders, we fet before 
them fome eminent orator, whofe fine preaching has 
made him the admiration of the age, and carried him 
through all the dignities and preferments of the church. 

We encourage them to have thefe honours in their 
eye, and to expect the reward of their ftudies from 
them. 

If the youth is intended for a trade, we bid him look 
at all the rich men of the fame trade, and confider how 
many now are carried about in their ftately coaches, who 
began in the fame low degree as he now does. We 
awaken his ambition, and endeavour to give his mind a 
right turn, by often telling him how very rich fuch and 
fuch a trade{man_ died. 

If he is to be a lawyer, then we fet great counfellors, 
lords, judges, chancellors, before his eyes. We tell him 
what great fees, and great applaufe attend fine pleading. 
We exhort him to take fire at thefe things, to raife a 

- fpirit of emulation in himfelf, and to be content with 
nothing lefs than the higheft honours of the long robe. 

That this is the nature of our beft education, is too 
plain to need any proof; and I believe there are few 

parents, but would be glad to fee thefe inftruétions daily 
"given to their children. 
And after all this, we complain of the effects of pride ; 


238 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


we wonder to fee grown men aéted and governed by 
ambition, envy, fcorn, and a defire of glory ; not con- 
fidering that they were all the time of their youth, call- 
ed upon to all their ation and induftry upon pons fame 
principles. 

You teach a child | to {corn to be out- a: to thirft 
for diftinGtion and applaufe ; and is it any wonder that 
he continues to aét all his life in the fame manner ? 

Now if a youth is ever to be fo fara Chriftian as to 
govern his heart by the doétrines of humility, I would 
fain know at what time he is to begin it ; or if he is ever 
to begin it at all, why we train him up in tempers quite 
contrary to it? 

How dry and poor muft the dotuind of humility 
found to a youth, that has been fpurred up to all his in- 
duitry by ambition, envy, emulation, and a defire of glory 
and diftintion? And if he is net to aét by thefe princi. 
ples when he is a man, why do we call rae to aé& by 
them in his youth ? 

Envy is acknowledged by all people, to be the moft - 
ungenerous, bafe and wicked paffion, that can enter into | 
the heart of man. 

And is this a temper to be initilled, nabritited and 
eftablithed in the minds of young people ; we 

I know it is faid, that it is not envy, but emulation, 
that is intended to be awakened in the minds of young 
men. 

But this is vainly faid. For when children are taught 
to bear no rival, and to fcorn to be out~done by any of 
their age, they are plainly and dire@ly taught to be en- 
vious. For it is impoffible for any one to have this fcorn — 
of being out-done, and this contention’ with rivals, with- 
out burning with envy againft all thofe that feem to ex- 
cel him, or get any diftinG@tion from him. Sothat what 
children are taught, is rank envy, and only covered with 
a name of a lefs odious found. ae 

Secondly, If envy is thus confeffedly bad,, and it. 
only emulation that is endeavoured to be awakened 2 
children, furely there ought to be great care taken, 1 
children may know the one from the other. That 
may abominate the one as a great crime, whilf 
the other admiffion into their minds. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 239 


_ But if this were to be attempted, the finenefs of the 
diftin&tion betwixt envy and emulation, would thew that 
it was eafier to divide them into words, than to feparate 
them in aétion. 

For emulation, when it is defined in its beft manner, 
is nothing elfe but a refinement upon envy, or rather 
the moit plaufible part of that black and venomous paf- 
fion. 

And though it is eafy to feparate them in the notion, 
yet the moft acute philofopher, that underftands the art 
of diftinguifhing ‘ever fo well, if he gives himfelf up to 
emulation, will certainly find himfelf deep in envy. 

For envy is not an original temper, but the natural, 
neceflary, and unavoidable effe&t of emulation, or a de- 
- fire of glory, 

- So that he who eftablifhes the one in the minds of 
people, neceffarily fixes the other there. And there ig 
no other poffible way of deftroying envy, but by deftroy- 
ing emulation, or a defire of glory. For the onealways 
rifes and falls in proportion to the other. 

I know it is faid in defence of this method of edu- 
cation, that ambition, and a defire of glory, are ne- 
ceflary to excite young people to induftry ;. and that if 
we were to prefs upon them the doétrincs of humility, 
» we fhould dejeét their minds, and fink them into dulnefs 
and -idlenefs. 

But thefe people who fay this, do not confider, that 
this reafon, if it has any ftrength, is full as trong againit 
prefling the doétrines of humility upon grown men, left 
we fhould deje& the minds, and fink them into dulnefs 

and idlenefs. re Views * 
For who does not fee that middle-aged men want as 
much the affiftance of pride, ambition, and vain-glory, to 
{pur them up to attion and induftry, as children do ? 
And it is very certain, that the precepts of humility are 
more contrary to the defigns of fuch men, and more - 
grievous to their minds, when they are prefled upon 
them, than they are to the minds of young’perfons. 

This reafon therefore that is given, why children 
fhould not be trained up in the principles of true humil- 
| ity, is as good a reafon why the fame humility fhould 
ever be required of grown men. 
e - Ww 


240 A SERIOUS CALLsTO A 


Thirdly, Let thofe people, who think that children 
would be fpoiled, if they were not thus educated, con- 
fider this. ‘ 

Could they think, that if any children had been edu- 
cated by our bleffed Lord, or his holy apoftles, that 
eg minds would have been funk into dulnefs and idle- 
nefs, 

Or could they think, that fuch children would not 
have been trained up in the profoundeft principles of a 
ftri& and true humility ? Can they fay that our bleffed 
Lord, who was the meekeft and humbleft man that ever 
was on earth, was hindered by his humility from being 
the greateft example of worthy and glorious aétions, 
that ever were done by man? ; ; 

Can they fay that his apoftles, who lived in the hum- 
ble {pirit of their Mafter, did therefore ceafe to be la- 
borious and aétive inftruments of doing good to all the 
world ? Real. 

A few fuch refleétions as thefe, are fufficient to ex- 
pofe all the poor pretences for an education in pride and 
ambition. 

Paternus lived about two hundred years ago ; he had 
but one fon, whom he educated himfelf in his own 
houfe. As they were fitting together in the garden, 
when the child was ten years old, Paternus thus began 
to him. j 

"The little time that you have been in the world, my 
child; you have fpent wholly with me ; and my love and 
tendernefs to you, has made you look -upon me as your 
only friend and benefaétor, and the caufe of all the com- 
fort and pleafure that you enjoy : your heart, I know, 
would be ready to break with grief, if you thought this 
was the laft day that I fhould live with you. 

But, my child, though you now think yourfelf mighty 
happy, becaufe you have hold of my hand, you are now | 
in the hands, and under the care of a much greater Fa- 
ther and Friend than I am, whofe love to you is far 
greater than mine, and from whom you receive fuch ble 

“ings as no mortal can give. 4. ae 

- That God whom you have feen me daily 
whom I daily call upon to blefs both you and 


all mankind ; whofe wondrous aéts are recorded 
ny 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 24t 


feriptures which you conftantly read. That God who 

created the heavens and the earth ; who brought a flood 
upon the whole world; who faved Noah in the ark ; 

who was the God of Abraham, Ifaac, and Jacob, whom 
Job bleffed and praifed in the greateft affliGiions ; who 
delivered the Ifraelites out of the hands of the Egypt- 
ians ; who was the proteétor of righteous Jofeph, Moles, 
Jofhua and holy Daniel, who fent fo many prophets in- 
to the world, who fent his Son Jefus Chrift to redeem 
mankind : This God, who has done all thefe great 

things, who has created fo many millions of men, who 
lived and died before you was born, with whom the 
{pirits of good men that are departed this life, now live, 
whom infinite numbers of angels now worfhip in heav- 
en; this great God who is the Creator of worlds, of 
angels, and men, is your loving Father and Friend, your 
good Creator and Nourifher, from whom, and not from 
me, you received your being ten years ago, at the time - 
that I planted that little tender elm which you there 

fee. 

I myfelf am not half the age of this fhady oak, under 
which we fit; many of our fathers have fat under its 
boughs, we have all of us called it ours in our turn, 
though it ftands, and drops its mafters, as it drops its 
leaves. 

You fee, my fon, this wide and large firmament over 
our heads, where the fun and moon, and all the ftars ap- 
pear in their turns. If you was to be carried up to any 
of thefe bodies at this vaft diftance from us, you would 
ftill difcover others as much above, as the ftars that you 
fee here are above the earth. Were you to go up or 
down, eaft or weft, north or fouth, you would find the 
fame height without any top, and the fame depth without 
any bottom. 

And yet, my child, fo great is God, that all thefe bod- 
ies added together are but asa grain of fand in his fight. 
And yet you are as much the care of this great God and 
Father of all worlds, and all {pirits, as if he had no fon 
_ but you, or there were no creature for him to love and 

rotect but you alone. He numbers the hairs of your » 

ead, watches over you fleeping and waking, and hac 


i? 


“eg 


242 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


preferved you from a thoufand dangers, which neither 
you nor I know any thing of. ~ Yahi 

How poor my power is, and how little I am able to © 
do for you, you have often feen. Your late ficknefs has 
fhewn you how little I could do for you in that ftate ; 
and the frequent pains of your head are plain proofs, 
that I have no power to remove them. - 

I can bring you food and medicines, but have no power 
to turn them into your.relief and nourifhment ; it is God 
alone that can do this for you. a ee 

Therefore, my child, fear and worfhip, and love God. 
Your eyes indeed cannot yet fee him, but every thing 
you fee, are fo many marks of his power and prefence, 
and he is nearer to you, than any thing that you can 
fee. B ai ta 

Take him for your Lord and Father, and Friend, look 
up unto him as the fountain and caufe of all the good 
that you have received through my hands, and reverence 
me only as the bearer and minifter of God’s good things 
unto you. And he that bleffed my father before I was 
born, will blefs you when I am dead. . 

Your youth and little'mind is only yet acquainted with 
my family, and therefore you think there is no happinefs 
out of it. : dy 

But my child, you belong to a greater family than 
mine, you are a younger member of the family of this 
Almighty Father of all nations, who has created infinite 
orders of angels, and numberlefs generations of men, to — 
be fellow-members of one and the fame fociety in 
heaven. nn 

You do well to reverence and obey my authority, be- — 
caufe God has.given me power over you, to bring you ‘ 
up in his fear, and to do for you, as the holy fathers re= 
corded in feripture did for their children, who are now ~ 
in reft and peace with God. ae i 2 

I fhall in a fhort time die, and leave you to God, ai 
yourfelf; and if God forgiveth my fins, I fhall go 
Son Jefus Chrift, and live amongft patriarchs 2 
phets, faints and martyrs, where I fhall pray 
-.,and hope for your fafe arrival at the fame plac 
Therefore, : my child, meditate on thefe grea 


Ms 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 948 


and your foul will foon grow great and noble by fo med- 
itating upon them. : 

Let your thoughts often leave thefe gardens, thefe 
fields and farms, to contemplate upon God and heaven, 
to confider upon angels, and the fpirits of good men living 
in light and glory. ‘ 
~ Ass you have been ufed to look to me in all your ac- 
tions, and have been afraid to do any thing, unlefs you 
firft knew my will ; fo let it now be a rule of your life, 
to look up to God in all your aétions, to do every thing 
in his fear, and to abftain from every thing that is not 
according to his will. 

Bear him always in your mind, teach your thoughts 
to reverence him in every place, for there is no place 
where he is not. 

God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the aGtions of 
all men are written ; your name is there, my child, and 
when you die, this book will be laid open before men 
and angels, and according as your actions are there 
found, you will either be received to the happinefs of 
thofe holy men who have died before you, or be turned 
away amongit wicked fpirits, that are never to fee God 
any more. 

Never forget this book, my fon, for it is written, it 
muit be opened, you mutt fee it, and you mutt be tried 
by it. Strive therefore to fill it with your good deeds, 
that the hand-writing of God may not appear againft 
you. ; 

God, my child, is all love, and wifdom, and goodnefs ; 
and every thing that he has made, and every action that 
he does, is the effet of them all. Therefore you can- 
not pleafe God, but fo far as you ftrive to walk in love, 
wifdom and goodnefs. As all wifdom, love and good- 
nefs proceeds from God, fo nothing but love, wifdom 
and goodnefs can lead to God. 

When you love that which God loves, you a& with 

him, you join yourfelf to him ; and when you love 
what he diflikes, then you oppofe him, and feparate 
_ yourfelf from him. This is the true and the right way ; 
_ think what God loves, and do you love it with all your 
rt. : 
a Firft of all, my child, worfhip and adore God, think 
ce we 


242 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


preferved you from a thoufand dangers, which neither 
you nor I know any thing of. © i 

How poor my power is, and how little I am able to 
do for you, you have often feen. Your late ficknefs has 
fhewn you how little I could do for you in that ftate ; 
and the frequent pains of your head are plain proofs, 
that I have no power to remove them. - 

I can bring you food and medicines, but have no power 
to turn them into your relief and nourifhment ; it is God 
alone that can do this for you. ae ee 

Therefore, my child, fear and worfhip, and love God, 
Your eyes indeed cannot yet fee him, but every thing 
you fee, are fo many marks of his power and prefence, 
and he is nearer to you, than any thing that you can 
fee. *. ding 
Take him for your Lord and Father, and Friend, look 
up unto him as the fountain and caufe of all the good 
that you have received through my hands, and reverence 
me only as the bearer and minifter of God’s good things 
unto you. And he that bleffed my father before I was 
born, will blefs you when I am dead. ye? 

_. Your youth and little’mind is only yet acquainted with 
my family, and therefore you think there is no happinefs 
out of it. , 

But my child, you belong to a greater family than 
mine, you are a younger member of the family of this 
Almighty Father of all nations, who has created infinite 
orders of angels, and numberlefs generations of men, to 
be fellow-members of one and the fame fociety in 
heaven. ie 

You do well to reverence and obey my authority, be- 
caufe God has-given me power over you, to bring you 
up in his fear, and to do for you, as the holy fathers re- _ 
corded in feripture did for their children, who are now 
in reft and peace with God. MM ay ‘ncaa 

I fhall in a thort time die, and leave you to God, and A 
yourfelf ; and if God forgiveth my fins, I thall go to hi 
Son Jefus Chrift, and live amongft patriarchs and 
phets, faints and martyrs, where I fhall pray fe 
».»and hope for your fafe arrival at the fame place. 
Therefore, - my child, meditate on thefe gre 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 948 


and your foul will foon grow great and noble by fo med- 
itating upon them. : 

Let your thoughts often leave thefe gardens, thefe 
fields and farms, to contemplate upon God and heaven, 
to confider upon angels, and the fpirits of good men living 
in light and glory. 

_ As you have been ufed to look to me in all your ac- 
tions, and have been afraid to do any thing, unlefs you 
firft knew my will ; fo let it now be a rule of your life, 
to look up to God in all your ations, to do every thing 
in his fear, and to abftain from every thing that is not 
according to his will. 

Bear him always in your mind, teach your thoughts 
to reverence him in every place, for there is no place 
where he is not. 

God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the actions of 
all men are written ; your name is there, my child, and 
when you die, this book will be laid open before men 
and angels, and according as your aétions are there 
found, you will either be received to the happinefs of 
thofe holy men who have died before you, or be turned 
away amongil wicked fpirits, that are never to fee God 
any more. 

Never forget this book, my fon, for it is written, it 
muit be opened, you mutt fee it, and you mutt be tried 
by it. Strive therefore to fill it with your good deeds, 
that the hand-writing of God may not appear againft 
you. - 
God, my child, is all love, and wifdom, and goodnefs ; 
and every thing that he has made, and every action that 
he does, is the effeét of them all. Therefore you can- 
not pleafe God, but fo far as you ftrive to walk in love, 
wifdom and goodnefs, As all wifdom, love and good- 
hefs proceeds from God, fo nothing but love, wifdom 
and goodnefs can lead to God. 

When you love that which God loves, you a& with 


him, you join yourfelf to him ; and when you love 


} 

a 
” 

Re 


what he diflikes, then you oppofe him, and feparate 

yourfelf from him. This is the true and the right way ; 

think what God loves, and do you love it with all your 
eart. eed , 


BS Firft of all, my child, worfhip and adore God, think 


a we 


246 A SERIOUS CALL TO A - 


erate conyeniencies. Do not confider what your eftate 
can afford, but what right reafon requires. — 

Let your drefs be fober, clean, and modeft, not to fet 
out the beauty of your perfon, but to declare the fobri- 
ety of your mind, that your outward garb may refemble 
the inward plainnefs and fimplicity of your heart. 
For it is highly reafonable, that you fhould be one man, 
all of a piece, and appear outwardly fuch as you are in- 
wardly. 

As to your meat and drink, in them obferve the high- 
eft rules of Chriftian temperance and fobriety ; confider 
your body only as the fervant and minifter of your foul 
and only fo nourifh it, as it may beft perform an humble 
and obedient fervice to it. 


But, my fon, obferve this as pinched thing, 
which I fhall remember you o ng as I live — 
you. 


Hate and defpife all human glory, for it is po 
elfe but human folly. It is the greateft fnare and 
the greateft betrayer that you can poffibly admit into 
your heart. 

Love humility in all its inftances, praétife it in all its 
parts, for it is the nobleft ftate of the foul of man ; it 
will fet your heart and affeétions right towards God, and — 
fill you with every temper that is tender and affe€tionate 
towards men. A 

Let every day therefore be a day of humility, Soliias 
{cend to all the weaknefs and infirmities of your fellow- 
creatures, cover their frailties, love their excellencies, 
encourage their virtues, relieve their wants, rejoice i in 
their profperities, compaffionate their diftrefs, receive 
their friendfhip, overlook their unkindnefs, forgive their 
malice, be a fervant of fervants, and condefcend to do 
the loweft offices to the loweft of mankind. = = 2 ——— 

Afpire after nothing but your own purity and perfec. — 
tion, and have no ambition but to do every thing i 
reafonable and religious a manner, that you may be 
that God is every where prefent, and fees and ob 
your actions. The greateft trial of humility, is 
ble behaviour towards your equals im age, eff 
cdfidition of life. Therefore be careful o 
tions of your heart towards thefe people : 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 247 


behaviour towards them be governed by unfeigned 
love. Have no defire to put any of your equals below 
you, nor any anger at thofe that would put themfelves 
above you. If they are proud, they are ill of a very 
bad diitemper, let them therefore have your tender pity, 
and perhaps your meeknefs may prove an occafion of 
their cure. But if your humility fhould do them no 
good, it will however be the greateft good that you can 
do to yourfelf. 

Remember that there is but one man in the world, 
with whom you are to have perpetual contention, and 
be always ftriving to exceed him, and that is yourfelf. 

The time of prattifing thefe precepts, my child, will 
foon be over with you, the world will foon flip through 


_ your hands, or ra ou will foon flip through it ; it 
feems but the othe fince I received thefe fame in- 


ftruétions from my dear father, that I am now leaving 
with you. And the God that gave me ears to hear, 
and a heart to receive what my father {aid unto me, will, 
I hope, give you grace to love and follow the fame in- 
ftructions. 

Thus did Paternus educate his fon. 

Can any one now think that fuch an education as this 
would weaken and deje& the minds of young people, 
and deprive the world of any worthy and reafonable la- 
bours ? 

It is fo far from that, that there is nothing fo likely to 
ennoble and exalt the mind, and prepare it for the moft 
heroical exercife of all virtues. 

_ For who will fay, that a love of God, a defire of 
pleafing him, a love of our neighbour, a love of tguth, of 
reafon and virtue, a contemplation of eternity and the 
rewards of piety, are not itronger motives to great and 
good actions, than a little uncertain popular praife ? 

On the other hand, there is nothing in reality that 
more weakens the mind, and reduces it to meannefs and 
flavery, nothing that makes it lefs mafter of its own ac- 
tions, or lef{s capable of following reafon, than a love of 

_ praife and honour. 


__ For as praife and honour are often given to things and 
_ perfons, where they are not due ; as that is generally 
 moft praifed and honoured, that moft gratifies the hu- 


MS ae 


patie: hs " 


4 


adg A SERIOUS CALL TOA ~° 


mours, fafhions, and vicious tempers of if worl 

fo he that aéts upon the defire of praife and a Pas 
muft part with every other principle ; he shin on black 
is white, put bitter for fweet, and {weet for bitter, 
and do the meaneft, bafeft things, in order to be ap- 
plauded. 

For in a corrupt world, as this is, “worthy aétions are 
only to be fupported by then own worth, where, inftead 
of being praifed and honoured, they are sid often re- 
proached and perfecuted. 

So that to educate children upon a taatae of emu 
tion, or a defire of glory, in a world where glory ‘itfelf is is” 
falfe, and moft commonly. given wrong, is to deftroy the 

natural integrity and fortitude of their minds, and give 


them a bias which will ty ll them to bafe and 


mean, than great and worthy < 


oe 


~ i 
’ 


e Ss Ne 


¥ 


-—<_>— 


CHAP. XIX. . . 
Shewing how the method of educating daughters, ant it : 
difficult for them to enter into the fpirit of Chriftian hu- 
mulity. How miferably they are injured and abufed by Such 
an education. The {pirit of a better education ain: 
in the charaéter of Eufebia. wilt 
THAT turn of mind which is ee spit ee 
couraged in the education of daughters, makes it exceed. 
ing difficult for them to enter into fuch a fenfe and 
practice of humility, as the fpirit of Chriftianity Te- 
quireth. 

The right education of this fex is of the utmoft i import- 
ance to human life. There is nothing that is more defir- 
able for the-eommon good of all the world. For thou; g 
women do not carry.on the trade and bufinefs— 
_ world, yet. as they are mothers, and miftreffes of far 

that have for fome time the care of the education of t 
children of both forts, they are entruited | with ‘that 
is of the greateft confequence to human life. zu 

regfon, good or bad, women are likely to do 


. Soa DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 249 


good or harm in the world; as good or bad men in the 
greateft bufinefs of life. 

For as the health, and ftrength, or weaknefs, of our 
bodies, is very much owing to their methods of treating 
us when we were young ; fo the foundnefs or folly of 
our minds are not lefs owing to thofe firft tempers and 
ways of thinking, which we eagerly received from the 
love, tendernefs, authority, and conftant converfation of 
our mothers. 

As we call our firft language our mother-tongue, fo 

we may as juitly call our firft tempers our mother-tem- 

-pers ; and perhaps it may be found more eafy to forget 
the language, than to part entirely with thofe tempers 
which we learnt in the nurfery. 

It is therefore much to be lamented, that oe fex, on 

’ whom fo much d who have the firft forming both 

- of our bodies.and nds, are not only educated in 

" pride, “put in the fillie and moft contemptible part of 
it. 

They are not indeéd fuffered to difpute with us the 
proud prizes of arts and fciences, of learning and elo- 
quence, in which I have much fufpicion they would often 
prove our fuperiors ; but we turn them over to the ftudy 
of beauty and drefs, and the whole world confpires to 
make them think of nothing elfe. Fathers and mothers, 
friends and relations, feem to have no other wifh towards 
the little girl, but that fhe may have a fair fkin, a fine 
fhape, drefs well, and dance to admiration. 

Now if our fondnefs for our perfons, a defiré*of bids 
ty, a love of drefs, be a part of pride (as furely i itis a 
moft contemptible part of it) the firft flep towards a 
woman’s humility, aeons to require a repentance of her 
education. v5 

For it muft be owned, ‘that, generally fpeaking, ‘good 
' parents are never more fond of their ‘daughters, than 

when they fee them too fond of themfelves,-and drefled’ 
in fuch a manner, as is a great reproach to the gtavity 
and fobriety of the Chriftian life. 

And what makes this matter ftill more to be lamented, 

B is this, that women’ are not ouly f{poiled_by this educa- 
Ac Be but we fpoil that part of the world, which would 


250 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


otherwife furnifh moft inftances of an eminent and exalt- 
ed piety. . 

For I believe it may be affirmed, that for the moft 
part there is a finer fenfe, a clearer mind, a readier ap- 
prehenfion, and gentler difpofitions in tat fex, than in 
the other. 

All which tempers, if they were om improved by 
proper ftudies, and fober methods of education, would 
-in all probability carry them to greater heights of piety 
than are to be found amongit the generality of men. 

For this reafon I {peak to this matter with fo much 
opennefs and plainnefs, becaufe it is much to be lament- 
ed, that. perfons fo naturally qualified to be great exam- 
ples of piety, fhould, by an erroneous education, be made 
poor and gaudy {peétacles of the greateft vanity. 

The Church has formerly h ent faints in that 
fex ; and it may reafonably be ty that it is purely 
owing to their poor and vain ation, that this hon- 
our of their fex is for the Mott part confined to for- 
mer ages. 

he corruption of the world indulges them in great 
vanity, and mankind feem to confider them in no other 
view, than as fo many painted idols, that are to allure 
and gratify their paffions ; fo that if many women are 
vain, light, gewgaw creatures, they have this to excufe 
themfelves, that they are not only fuch as their educa- 
tion has made them, but fuch as the generality of the 
world allows them to be. 

But then they fhould confider, that the faende ‘to 
their vanity are no friends of theirs: they fhould confid- 
er, that they are to live for themfelves, that they have as 
great a fhare in the rational nature as men have ; that they 
have as much reafon to pretend, ‘and as much neceflity to 
afpire after the higheft accomplifhments of « Chriftian 
aud folid virtue, as the graveft and wifeft amongit ig 
ian philofophers. 

'They fhould confider that they are abufed and i injured ’ 
and betrayed from their only perfection, whenever t ey 
are taught, that any thing is an ornament in them, that” 
is not an ornament: in the wifeft amongft mankind.” , 

It is generally faid, that women are naturally o} 
and vain minds ; but this I look upon to be as fa 

4. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 251 


unreafonable, as to fay, that butchers are naturally cruel ; 
for as their cruelty is not owing to their nature, but to 
their way of life, which has changed their nature ; fo 
whatever littlenefs and vanity is to be obferved in the 
_ minds of women, it is like the cruelty of butchers, a 
temper that is wrought into them by that life which they 
are taught and accuftomed to lead. - : 

At leaft thus much mutt be faid, that we cannot 
charge any thing upon their nature, till we take care 
that it is not -perverted by their education. 

And on the other hand, if it were true, that they were 
thus naturally vain and light, then how much more 
blameable is that education, which feems contrived to 
ftrengthen and increafe this folly and weaknefs of their 
minds? For if it were a virtue in a woman to be proud 
and vain in herf could hardly take better means 
to raife this paffi r, than thofe that are now ufed 
in their education. 7 as 

Matilda is a fine woman, of good breeding, great fenfe 
and much religion. She has three daughters that are 
educated by herfelf. She will not truft them with = 
one elfe, or at any {chool, for fear they fhould learn any 
thing ill. She ftays with the dancing mafter all the time 
he is with them, becaufe fhe will hear every thing that 
is faid tothem. She has heard them read the fcriptures 
fo often, that they can repeat great part of it without 
book : And there is {earce a good book of devotion, but 
you may find it in their clofets. 

Had Matilda lived in the firft ages of Chrittianity, 

when it was practifed in the fulnefs and plainnefs of its 
do&rines, fhe had in all probability been one of its 
greateft faints. But as fhe was born in corrupt times, 
where fhe wants examples of Chriftian perfeGtion, and 
hardly ever faw a piety higher than her own; fo fhe 
has many defe&ts, and communicates them all to her 
daughters. Z 
___. Matilda never was meanly dreffed in her life ; and noth- 
_ ing pleafes her in drefs, but that which is very rich and 
beautiful to the eye. 
: Her daughters fee her great zeal for religion, but ther 
‘ y fee an equal earneftnefs for all forts of finery. 
_ They fee fhe is not negligent of her devotion, but then 
ok = 


252 -A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


they fee her more careful to preferve her complexion, 
and to prevent thofe changes, which time and age threat- 
ea her with. ‘ 

They are afraid to meet her, if they have miffed the 
Church ; but then they are more afraid to fee her, if 
they are not laced as ftraight as they can poffibly be. 

She often fhews them her own pi€ture, which was ta- 
ken when their father fell in love with her. She tells 
them, how diftra€ted he was with paffion at the firft 
fight of her, and that fhe had never had fo fine a com- | 
plexion, but for the diligence of her good mother, who 
took exceeding care of it. oe 

Matilda is fo intent upon all the arts of improving 
their drefs, that fhe has fome new fancy almoft eve 
day, and leaves no ornament u from the tichett 
jewel to the pooreft flower. @ nice and critical 
in her judgment, fo fenfible % alleft error, that 
the maid is often forced to dréf and undrefs her daugh- 
ters three or four times in a day, before fhe can be fatis- 
fal with it. 

As to the patching, fhe referves that to herfelf ; for, 
fhe fays, if they are not ftuck on with judgment, they 
are rather a prejudice, than an advantage to the face. 

The children fee fo plainly the temper of their mother, 
that they even affect to be more pleafed with drefs, and 
to be more fond of every little ornament, than they re- - 
ally are, merely to gain her favour. ae 

They. faw their eldeft filter once pile 2 to her tears, 
and her perverfenefs feverely reprimanded, for prefum- 
ing to fay, that fhe thought it was better to cover the 
neck, than to go'fo far naked as the modern drefs re- 

uires. 

She ftints them in their meals, and is very ferupulous 
of what they eat and drink, and tells them how many 
fine fhapes fhe has feen fpoiled in her time for want of 
fuch care ; if a pimple rifes in their faces, fhe is in a gre 
fright, and they themfelves are as afraid to fee her 
it, as if they had committed fome great fin. 

Whenever they begin to look fanguine and bh: 
fhe calls in the affiftance of the doftor ; and if p 
iffues, will keep the.complexion from inclinin 
or ruddy, fhe thinks them well employed. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 253° 


By this means they are poor, pale, fickly, infirm crea- 
tures, vapoured through want of fpirits, crying at the 
fmalleft accidents, fwooning away at any thing that 
frights them, and hardly able to bear the weight of their 
belt clothes. 

The eldeft daughter lived as long as fhe could under 
this difcipline, and died in the twentieth year of her 


se When the body was opened, it appeared that her ribs 
had grown into her liver, and that her other entrails 
were much hurt by being crufhed together with her 
‘lays, which her mother had ordered to be twitched fo 
flrait, that it often brought tears into her eyes, whilft 
the maid was dreffing her. 

Her youngeft hter is run away with a gamielter, 
a man of great ho in drefling and dancing has 
no {uperior. . 

_ Matilda fays, fhe die with grief at this acci- 
dent, but that her confci€nce tells her, fhe has contrib- 
uted nothing to it herfelf. She appeals to their ae: 
to their books of devotion, to teftify what care fhe 
taken to eftablifh her children in a life of folid piety and 
devotion. 

Now though I do not intend to fay, that no daughters 

_are brought up in a better way than this, for I hope there 
are many that are ; yet this much I believe may be faid, 
that the much greater part of them are not brought up 
fo well, or accuftomed to fo much religion, as in the pref- 
ent inftance. ’ 

Their minds are turned as much to the care of their 
beauty and drefs, and the indulgence of vain defires, as 
in the prefent cafe, without having fuch rules of devo- 
tion to ftand againft it. So that if folid piety, humility, 

_* and a fober fenfe of themfelves, is much wanted in that 

_fex, it is the plain and natural confequence of a vain and 
corrupt education. 

And if they are often too ay to receive the firlt 

_ ops, beaux, and fine dancers, for their hufbands ; it is 
_ no wonder they fhould like that in men, which they have 

_ been taught to admire in themfelves. 

_ And if they are often feen to lofe that little religion 

i, were taught. in their youth, it is no more to ke 


254 A SERIOUS CALL 'TO A _ 


wondered at, than to fee a little ower choked and kill- 
ed amongft rank weeds. 

For perfonal pride, and affeCtation, a delight i in beauty 
and fondnefs of finery, are tempers that muft either kill 
all religion in the foul, or be themfelves killed by it ; 
they can no more thrive together, than health and fick- 
nefs. 

Some people that judge haftily, will perhaps here 
fay, that I am exercifing too great a feverity againft the 
fex. 

But more reafonable perfons will eafily obferve, that I 
entirely {pare the fex, and only arraign their education ; 
that I not only {pare them, but plead their intereft, af. 
fert their honour, fet forth their perfeGtions, iatiaenal 
their natural tempers, and onl emn that educa- 
tion, which is fo injurious to t refts, fo debafes 
their honour, and deprives thet e*benefit of their 
excellent natures and tempers "4 

Their education, I profefs,"I cannot {pare ; but the 
only reafon is, becaufe it is their greateft enemy, becaufe 
it deprives the world of fo many bleflings, and the church 
of fo many faints, as might reafonably be expected from 
perfons, fo formed by their natural tempers to all good- 
‘nefs and tendernefs, and fo fitted by the clearnefs and 
brightnefs of their minds, to contemplate, love and ad- 
mire every thing that is holy, virtuous and divine. 

If it fhould here be faid, that I even charge too high 
upon their ‘education, and that they are not fo much 
hurt by it, as I imagine. ft 

It may be anfwered, that. though I do not pretend. to 
flate the exaét degree of mifchief that is done by it, yet — 
its plain and natural tendency to do harm, is fufficient to 
juftify the moft abfolute condemnation of it. 

But if any one would know, how generally. women 
are hurt by this education ; if he imagines there may be o 
no perfonal pride, or vain fondnefs of themfelves, i in thofe — 
that are patched and drefled out with fo much ghit P 
art and ornament. 

Let him only make the following experiment 
ever he pleafes. 

Let him only acquaint any fuch woman wit 
jon of her; I do not mean that he fhould 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 255 . 


her face, or do it inany rude public manner ? but let him 
contrive the moft civil, fecret, friendly way that he can 

~ think of only to let her know his opinion, that he thinks 
fhe is neither handfome, nor dreffes well, nor becomes her 
finery ; and I dare fay, he will find there are but very 
few fine dreffed women, that will Hke him never the 
wworfle for his bare opinion, though known to none but 
themfelves ; and that he will not be long without feeing 
the effects of her refentment. 

But if fuch an experiment would fhew him that there 
are but few fuch women that could bear with his friend- 
fhip, after they knewthe had fuch an opinion of them, 
fury it is time to complain of, and accufe that educa- 
tion, which fo generg 

For though it 
yet where they de 
any thing, there isthe judgment upon themfelves. 
If a woman cannot forgive a man who thinks fhe has no 
beauty, nor any ornament from her drefs, there fhe infal- 
libly difcovers the ftate of her own heart, and is condemn- 
ed by her own, and not another’s judgment. 

For we never are angry at others, but when their opin. 
ions of us are contrary to that which we have of ourfelves. * 

A man that makes no pretence to {cholarfhip, is never 
angry at thofe that do net take him to be a {eholar : fo 
if a woman had no opinion of her own perfon and drefs, 
the, would never be angry at thofe, who are of the fame 
opinion with herfelf. 

So that the general bad effe@ts of this education are 
too much known, to admit of any reafonable doubt. 

~ But how poffible it is to bring up daughters in a more 
excellent way, let the following character declare. : 
. Enufebia is a pious widow, well born, and well bred, and 
vhas a good eftate for five daughters, whom fhe brings up 
_as one intrufted by God, to fit five Virgins for the king- 
dom of heaven. Her family has the fame regulation as 
| a religious houfe, and all its orders tend to the fupport of 
 aconitant regular devotion. : ; 
___ She, her daughters, and her maids, meet together at.all 
_ the hours of prayer in the day, and chant pfalms and 
her devotions, and {pend the seft of their time in fuch 


corrupts their hearts. 
rd to judge of the hearts of people, 
eir refentment, and uneafinefs at 


X2 


256 A SERIOUS CALL TO A- 


good works, and innocent diverfions, as render them fit 
to return to their pfalms and prayers. ess pe 
She loves them as her fpiritual children, and they rev- 
erence her as their fpiritual mother, with an affeétion 
far above that of the fondeft friends. a 
She has divided part of her eftate amongft them, that 
every one may be charitable out of their own ftock, and 
each of them take it in their turns to provide for the 
poor and fick of the parifh. , 
Eufebia brings them up to all kinds of labour that are 
proper for women, as fewing, knitting, {pinning, and all 
other parts of houfewifery ; not for their amufement, but 
that they may be ferviceable to themfelves and others, and 
be faved from thofe temptations which attend an idle life. 
She tells them, fhe had rather them reduced to the 
neceffity of maintaining the fe ‘their own work, 
than to have riches to exe themfe! from labour. 
For though, fays fhe, you may be able to affift the poor 
without your labour, yet by your labotir you will be able 
to affift them more. pitt 
If Eufebia has lived as free from fin as it is poffible for 
human nature, it is becaufe fhe is always watching and 
guarding againft all inftances of pride. And if her vir- 
tues are. ftronger and higher than other peoples, it is be- 
caufe théy are all founded in a deep humility. ; 
My children, fays fhe, when your father died, I was 
much pitied by my friends, as having all the care of a fam- 
ily, and the management of an eftate fallen upon me. 
But my own grief was founded upon another principle ; 
I was grieved to fee myfelf deprived of fo faithful a friend, 
and that fuch an eminent example of Chriftian virtues, 
 fhould be taken from the eyes of his children before they 
were of an age to love and follow it. : 
But as to worldly cares, which my friends thought fo 
~heavy upon me, they are moft of them of our own 
making, and fall away as foon as we know ourfelves. 
If a perfon ina dream is difturbed with ftrange ap- 
pearances, his trouble is over as foon as he is awake and 
fees that it was the folly of a dream. 
Now when a right knowledge of ourfelves ent 


our minds, it makes as great a change in all our thoug 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 257 


and apprehenfions, as when we awake from the wander- 
ings of a dream. ‘ 

We acknowledge a man to be mad or melancholy, 
who fancies himfelf to be glafs, and fo is afraid of ftir- 
ring ; or taking himfelf to be wax, dare not let the fun 
fhine upon him. 

But, my children, there are things in the world which 
pafs for wifdom, politenefs, grandeur, happinefs, and fine 
breeding, which fhew as great ignorance of ourfelves, and 
might as juitly pafs for thorough madnefs, as when a 
man fancies himielf to be glafs, or ice. 

A woman that dares not appear in the world without 

-finé clothes, that thinks it a happinefs to have a face 
finely coloured, to have a fkin delicately fair, that had 
rather die than be reduced to poverty and be forced to 
work for a poor maintenance, is as ignorant of herfelf to 
the full, as he th ies himfelf to be glafs. 

For this reafon, all my difcourfe with you has been to 

acquaint you with yourfelves, and to accuftom you to 
fuch books and devotions, as may beft inftru& you in 

- this greateft of all knowledge. 

You would think it hard, not to know the family into 
which you was born, what anceftors you were defcended 
from, and what eftate was to come to you. But, my 
children, you may know all this with exanefs, and yet 
be as ignorant of yourfelves, as he that takes himfelf to 
be wax. : 

For though you were all of you born of my body,and 
bear your father’s name, yet you are all of you pure 
fpirits. Ido not mean that you have not bodies that 
want meat and drink, and fleep, and clothing, but that 
all that deferves to be called you, is nothing elfe but 

fpirit. A being fpiritual and rational in its nature, that 
is as contrary to all flefhly or corporeal beings, as life 
_ is contrary to death ; that is made in the image of God, 
to live for ever, never to ceafe any more, but to enjoy 

‘= life, and reafon, and knowledge, and happinefs m- the 

__ prefence of God, and the fociety of angels, and glorious 

__ fpirits, to all eternity. 

Every thing that you call yours, befides this fpirit, is 
but like your clothing ; fomething that is only to be 
fed for a while, and then to end, and die, and wear 


ot 


~ 


258 A SERIOUS CALL TO A’. 
away; and to fignify no more to you, than than tlie chthing 


and bodies of other people. 

But, my children, you are not only in chin: manner 
{pirits, but you are fallen fpirits, that began your life in 
a ftate of corruption and diforder, full of tempers and 
paffions, that blind and darken the reafon of your se 
and incline. you to that which is hurtful. 

Your bodies are not only poor and perifhing like your 
clothes, but they are like infeted clothes, that fill you 
with all difeafes and diftempers, which opprefs the’ iowehs 
with fickly appetites and vain cravings. © 

So that all of us are like two beings, that ‘aus as it 
were, two hearts within us; with the one we fee, 
and tafte,-and «admire reafon, purity and holinefs : with 
the other we incline to pride, “— sia tl and — re 
lights. 

This internal war we alwagil : i 
lefs ; and if you would know Rie one pees neceflary to 
all the world, it is this ; to preferve and perfect all that 
is rational, holy and divine in our nature, and to morti- 
fy, remove and deftroy all that vanity, pride, and fenfu- 
ality, which fprings from the corruption of our flate ? 

Could you think, my children, when you look at the 
world, and fee what cuftoms, and fafhions, and pleafures, 
and troubles, and projects, and tempers, employ the 
hearts and time of mankind, that things were thus, as I 
have told you ? t's 

But do not you be affe&ted at thefe thi , the storld: 
is in a great dream, and but few ‘peop! are eee 
in it. 

We fancy that we fall into darksiely, hi we die ; 
but alas, we are moft of us in the dark till then 5 and 
the eyes of our fouls only then begin to fee, when our 
bodily eyes are clofing. 

You fee then your ftate, my children ; you are to hon 
our, improve, and perfe& the fpirit that is within ¥ 
you are to prepare it for the kingdom of heaven, 
ith it with ‘the love of God, and of virtue, to 
with good works, and to make it as holy and‘h 
as you can. You are to preferve it from the 
vanities of the world ; to fave it from the-ec 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 259 


the body, from thofe falfe delights, and fenfual tempers, 
which the body tempts it with. 

You are to nourifh your fpirits with pious readings, 
and holy meditations, with watchings, faitings, and 
prayers, that you may tatte, and relifh, aie defire 
that eternal flate, which is to begin when this life 
ends. 

As to your bodies, you are to confider them as poor, 
perifhing things, that are fickly and corrupt at prefent, 
and will foon drop into common duft. You are to watch 
over them as enemies, that are always trying to tempt 
and betray you, and fo never follow their advice and 
sounfel ; you are to confider them as the place and habit- 
ation oF your fouls, and fo keep them pure, and clean, 
and decent ; you are to confider them as the fervants 

-and inftruments of aétion, and fo give them food, and 
reft, and raiment, that they may be ftrong and healthful 
to do the duties of a charitable, ufeful, pious life. 
Whilft you live thus,-you live like yourfelves ; and 
whenever you have lefs regard to your fouls, or more re- 
gard to your bodies, than this comes to ; whenever you 
are more intent upon adorning your perfons, than upon 
perfecting of your fouls, you are much more befide your- 
felyes, than he, that had rather have a laced coat, than 
an healthful body. 
For this reafon, my children, I have taught you noth- 
ing that was dangerous for you to learn: I have kept 
you from every thing that might betray you into weak- 
nefs and folly ; or make you think any thing fine, but a 
fine mind; any thing happy but the favour of God; 
or any thing defirable, but to do all the good you pofli- 
bly can. 
Biches of the vain, immodeft entertainment of plays 
and operas, I have taught you to delight in vifiting the 
fick and poor: What mufic, and dancing, and diverfions 
are to many in the world, that prayers and devotions, and 
-., are to you. Your hands have not been employ- 

d in plaiting the hair, and adorning your perfons ; but 
in making clothes for the naked. You have not waited 
_ your fortunes upon yourfelves, but have added your la- 
’ our to them, to do more good to other people. 


i Inftead of forced fhapes, patched faces, genteel airs, 


260 A SERIOUS GALL TO A 


and affected motions, I have taught you to conceal your 
bodies with modeft garments, and let the world have 
nothing to view of you, but the plainnefs and fincerity, 
and humility of all your behaviour. 

You know, my children, the high peifeGtion, and the 
great rewards of virginity ; you know how it frees from 
worldly cares and troubles, and furnifhes means and op- 
portunities of higher advancement in a divine life’; 
therefore love, and efteem, and honour virginity 5 3; blefs 
God for all that glorious company of holy virgins, that 
from the beginning of Chriftianity, have, in the feveral 
ages of the church, renounced the cares and pleafures of 
matrimony, to be perpetual examples of folitude, con- 
templation, and prayer. 

But as every one has their proper gift from God, as 
I look upon you all to be fo many great bleffings ¢ i a 
married ftate ; fo I leave it to your choice, either to do 
as I have done, or to afpire after higher degrees of per- 
fection in a virgin ftate of life. 

I defire nothing, I prefs nothing upon you, but to 
make the moft of human life, and to afpire after perfec. 
tion in whatever ftate of life you choofe. 

Never therefore confider yourfelves as perfons that 
are to be fe2n, admired, and courted by men; but as 
poor finners, that are to fave yourfelves from the vani- 
ties and follies of a miferable world, by humility, devo- 
tion, and felf-denial. Learn to live “for your own fi 
and the fervice of God; and let nothing in the world 
be of any value with you, but that which you can turn 
into a fervice to God, and a means of your future hap- 

inefs. 
Confider often how powerfully you are called to a 
virtuous life, and what great and glorious things God 
has done for you, to make yom ia love with every thing 
that can promote his glory. ; 

Think upon the vanity and fhortnefs. of human. ife, . 
and let death and eternity be often in your minds : 
thefe thoughts will flrengthen and exalt your 
make you wife and judicious, and truly fenfible 
littlenefé of human things. 

Think of the happinefs of prophets and 2 


faints and martyrs, whe are new rejoicing in the p 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 261 


ence of God, and fee themfelves poffeflors of eternal 

’ glory. And then think how defirable a thing it is, to 
watch and pray, and do good as they did, that when you 
die you may have your lot amongft them. 3 

Whether married therefore or unmarried, confider 
yourfelves as mothers and fifters, as friends and relations 
to all that want your affiftance ; and never allow your- 
felves to be idle, whilft others are in want of any thing 
that your hands can make for them. 

This ufeful, charitable, humble employment of your- 
felves, is what I recommend to you with great earneft- 
nefs, as being a fubitantial part of a wife and pious life. 
And befides the good you will thereby do to other peo- 

le, every virtue of your own heart will be very much 
improved by it. 

For next to reading, meditation, and prayer, there 
is nothing that fo fecures our hearts from foolifh paffions, 
nothing that preferves fo holy and wife a frame of mind, 
as fome ufeful, humble employment of ourfelves. 

Never therefore confider your labour as an amufe- 
ment, that is to get rid of your time, and fo may be as 
trifling as you pleafe ; but confider it as fomething that 
is to be ferviceable to yourfelves and others, that is to 
ferve fome fober ends of life, to fave and redeem your 

- time, and make it turn to your account, when the works 
of all people fhall be tried by fire. 

When you was little, I left you to little amufe- 
ments, to pleafe yourfelves in any things that were 
free from harm; but as you are now grown up to a 
knowledge of God, and yourfelyes ; as your minds are 
now acquainted with the worth and value of virtue, and 
exalted with the great doétrines of religion, you are 
now to do nothing as children, but defpife every thing 
that is poor, or vain, and impertinent ; you are now 
to make the labours of your hands fuitable to the 


ty of your hearts, and employ yourfelves for the 
_ fame ends, and with the fame fpirit, as you watch 
Ss . 2 

_ For if there is any good to be done by your labour, 
ou can poffibly employ yourfelves ufefully to other 


ople, how filly is it, how contrary to the wifdom of 


262 A SERIOUS CALL TO A’ 


religion, to make that a mere amufement, which might 
as eafily be made an exercife of the greateft charity ? ~ 

What would you think of the wifdom of him, that 
fhould employ his time in diftilling of waters, and makin 
liquors which nobody could ufe, merely to amufe himfelf 
with the variety of their colour and clearnefs, when, with 
lefs labour and experfe, he might fatisfy the wants of 
thofe who have nothing to drink. 

Yet he would be as wifely employed, as thofe that 
are amufing themfelves with fuch tedious works as they 
neither need, nor hardly know how to ufe them when they 
are finifhed ; when with lefs labour and expenfe they 
might be doing as much good, as he that is clothing the 
naked, or vifiting the fick. 

Be glad therefore to know the ‘wants of the pooreft 
people, and let your hands be employed in making fuch 
mean and ordinary things for them, as their neceflities 
require. By thus making your labour a gift and fervice 
to the poor, your ordinary work will be changed into a 
holy fervice, and made as acceptable to God, as your — 
devotions. 

And as charity is the greateft of all virtues, as it 
always was the chief temper of the greateft faints ; fo 
nothing can make your own charity more amiable in the 
fight of God, than this method of adding your labour 
to it. 

The humility alfo of this employment will be as ben- 
eficial to you, as the charity of it. It will keep. you 
from all vain and proud thoughts of your own ftate and 
diftinétion in life, and from treating the poor as creatures 
of a different fpecies. By accuftoming yourfelves to this 
labour and fervice to the poor, as the reprefentatives of 
Jefus Chrift, you will foon find your heart foftened in 
the greateft meeknefs and lowlinefs towards them. You 
will reverence their eftate and condition, think it” an 
honour to ferve them, and never be fo pleafed with you 
felf, as when you are moft humbly employed i 
Service) ia 

This will make you true difciples of your m 
and Matter, who came into the world not to be 
untoy but to minifler ; and though he was Lord « 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 263° 


amongit the creatures of his own making, yet was amongft 
them, as one that ferveth. , ey 

Chriftianity has then had its moft glorious effe&ts upon 
your hearts, when it has thus changed your {pirit, re- 
movea ail the pride of life from you, and made you de- 
light in humbling yourfelves beneath the weft of all 
your fellow-creatures. 

Live therefore, my children, as you have begun your 
lives in humble labour for the good of others; and-let 
ceremonious vilits, and vain acquaintances, have as little 
of your time as you poffibly can. Contraé& no foolifh 
frieadfhips, or vain fondneffes for particular perfons ; but 
love them moft, that moft turn your love towards God, 
and your compafiion towards all the world. 

But above all, avoid the converfation of fine-bred fops 
and beaux, and hate nothing more than the idle difcourfe, 

_ the flattery and compliments of that fort of men; for 
they are the fhame of their own fex, and ought to be 
the abhorrence of yours. 

When you go abroad, let humility, modefty, and a 
decent carriage, be all the ftate that you take upon you; 
and let tendernefs, compaffion, and good nature, be all 
the fine breeding that you fhew in any place. 

If evil fpeaking, fcandal, or backbiting, be the con- 
verfation where you happen to be, keep your heart aad 

your tongue to yourfelf ; be as much grieved, as if you 
was amongft curfing and {wearing, and retire as foon as 
you can. 

Though you intend to marry, yet let the time never 
come till you find a man that has thofe perfe@ions, 
which you have been labouring after yourfelves ; who is 
likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and with whom 
it is better to live, than to want the benefit of his exam- 
ple. 


_ Love poverty, and reverence poor people ; as for ma- 


ny reafons, fo particularly for this, becaufe our bleffed:  - 


Saviour was one of the number, and becaufe you may 
Make them all fo many friends and advocates with God | 


for you. 
% Vifit and converfe with them frequently ; you will 
a find fimplicity, innocence, patience, fortitude, and 


y . 


¥ 


264 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


great piety amongft them ; and where they are not fo, _ 
your good example may amend them. ee 

» Rejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble 
action, and exercifing the meeknefs of your minds ; 
whether it be, as the fcripture expreffes it, in wafh- 
ing the faints’ feet, that is, in waiting upon, and ferv- 
ing thofe that are below you; or in bearing with the 
haughtinefs and ill manners of thofe that are your 
equals, or above you. For there is nothing better than 
humility ; it is the fruitful foil of all virtues ; and every- 
thing that is kind and good, naturally grows from 
it. 2 

Therefore, my children, pray for, and prattife humil- 
ity, and reje&t every thing in drefs, or carriage, or con- 
verfation, that has any appearance of pride. 

Strive to do every thing that is praifeworthy, but do 
nothing in order to be praifed ; nor think of any reward 
for all your labours of love and virtue, till Chrift cometh 
with all his holy angels. ae aa as 

And above all, my children, have a care of vain and 
proud thoughts of your own virtues. For as foon as 
ever people live different from the common way of the 
world, and defpifes its vanities, the devil reprefents to their 
minds the heights of their own perfeétions ; and is con- 
tent they fhould excel in good works, provided that he 
can but make them proud of them. 4 

Therefore watch over your virtues with a jealous 
eye, and reject every vain thought, as you would reject . 
the moft wicked imaginations; and think what a 
lofs it would be to you, to have the fruit of all your 
good works, devoured by the vanity of your own 
minds. Mae egy 

- Never, therefore, allow yourfelves to defpife thofe 
A 9 do not follow your rules of life ; but force your 
sto love them, and pray to God for them; and 
; umility be always whifpering it into your ears, tha 
‘you yourfelves will fall from thofe rules to-morrow 
_if God fhould leave you to your own ftrength anid wit. 
dom. Nt gee 

When therefore you have fpent days and week 

do not fuffer your hearts to contemplate an 
your ewn, but Bive all the glory to the goodnels 


Pg 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 265 


‘God, who has carried you throvgh fuch rules of holy 
living, as you weremot able to obferve by your own 
ftrength ; and take care to begin the next day, n . 
proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, b 
poor beginners, that want the daily afliltance of God to 
fave you from the groffeft fins. 

Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wife 
man. Whilft his ficknefs would fuffer him to talk with 
the, his difcourfe was chiefly about your education. He 
knew the benefits of humility, he faw the ruins which 
pride made in our fex ; and therefore he conjured me 
with the tendereft expreflions, to renounce the fafhiona- 
ble way of educating daughters in pride and foftnefs, 
in the care of their beauty and drefs ; and to bring you 
all up in the plaineft, fimplett inftances ‘of an humble, 
‘holy, and induftrious life. © 4s. 

He taught me an admirable rule of humility, which 
he practifed all the days of his life ; which was this; to 
let no morning pafs, without thinking upon fome frailty 
and infirmity of our own, that may put us to confufion, 
make us blufh inwardly, and entertain a mean opinion of 
ourfelves, =~ 

Think therefore, my children, that the foul of your 
good father, who is now with God, {peaks to you through 
my mouth ; and let the double defire of your father, who 


_ is gone, and I, who am with you, prevail upon you to 


love God, to ftudy your own perfection, to praétife hu- 
‘mility, and with innocent labour and charity, to do alt 
the good that you can to all your fellow-creatures, till 
God calls you to another life. 
Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. 
The {pirit of this education {peaks fo plainly for itfelf, 


that, I hope, I need fay nothing in its juftification. If 


we could fee it in life, as well as read of it in books, the 
world would foon find the happy effets of it. 

A daughter thus educated, would be a bleffing to a 
family that fhe came into; a fit companion for a w 
-manjiand make him happy in the government of his 
family, and the education of his children. 


ofe of herfelf well in marriage, would know how to live 


x And fhe that either was not inclined, » OF could not aif. , 


sto ‘to great and excellent ends in a ftate # gee 


Mi 


£ 


Me 


266° A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


A very ordinary knowledge of the fpirit of Chriftian. 
ity, feems to be enough to convince us, that no education 
bs of true advantage to young women, but that 

h trains them up in humble induftry, in great plain- 
nefs of life, in exa€t modefty of drefs, manners, and car- 
riage, and in flri€& devotion. _ For what fhould a Chrift- 
jan woman be but a plain, unaffected, modeft, humble 
creature, averfe to every thing in her drefs and carriage, — 
that can draw the eyes of beholders, or gratify the ap 
fions of lewd and amorous perfons ? 

How great a ftranger muft he be to the puleel, sor 
does not know that it requires this to be the fpirit of a 
pious woman? 

Our bleffed Saviour faith, Whofoever looketh upon a 
woman to luft after her, hath already committed ee 
with her in his heart. St. Matt. v. 28. 

Need an education which turns women’s minds to the 
arts and ornaments of drefs and beauty, be more ftrongly 
condemned, than by thefe words ? For furely, if the eye © 
is fo eafily and dangeroufly betrayed, every art and orna- 
ment is fufficiently condemned, that naturally tends: to 
betray it. 

And how can a woman of piety more juftly abhor and 
avoid any thing, than that which makes her perfon more 
a fnare and temptation to other people ? 1f luft and wan- 
ton eyes are the death of the foul, can any women think 
themfelves innocent, who with - idle breafts, patched 
faces, and every ornament of drefs, invite the et ere 
offend ? 

And as there is no Grice for iinowetiog in fuch a 
behaviour, fo neither can they’tell how to fet any bounds 
to their guilt. For as they can never know how much, 
or how often they have occafioned fin in other people, fo 
they can never know how much guilt will be placed to 
their own account. 

This one would think fhould fufficiently deter tie 
pious woman from every thing that might render her the 


éccafion of loofe paffions in other people. Tate 
St. Paul, {peaking of a thing entirely innocent, reafons. 
after this manner : But take heed, lef by any means this lib- * 
erty of yours become a flumbling-block to thofe that are weak.” 
—And through thy knowledge thy weak brother periph, for 


~ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 267 


whom Chrift died. But when ye fin fo againft the breih- 
ren, and wound their weak confcience, ye fin againft Chrift. 
Wherefore, if meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no 
ficfo while the world flandeth, left -F make my brother to of- 
fend, 1 Cor. viii. 9,—13. 

| Now if this is the fpirit of Chriftianity ; if it requires 
us to abftain from things thus lawful, mnocent, and ufe- 
ful, when there is any danger of betraying our weak 
brethren into an error thereby : furely it cannot be 
reckoned too nice or needlefs a point of confcience, for 
women to avoid fuch things, as are neither innocent nor 
ufeful, but naturally tend to corrupt their own hearts, 
and raife ill paffions in other people. 

Surely every woman of Chriftian piety ought to fay, 
in the fpirit of the apoftle, if patching and paint, or any 
vain adorning of my perfon, be a natural means of mak- 
ang weak, unwary eyes to offend, I will renounce all 
thefe aris as long as I live, left I fhould make my fellow 
creatures to offend. 

I fhall now leave this fubje& of humility ; having faid 
enough, as I hope, to recommend the neceflity of making 
it the conftant, chief fubje& of your devotion at this 
hour of prayer. 

I have confidered the nature and neceflity of humility, 
and its great importance to a religious life. I have fhewn 
you how many difficulties are formed againft it from our 
natural tempers, the fpirit of the world, and the common 
education of both fexes. 

Thefe confiderations will, I hope, inftru@ you how 
to form your prayers for it to the beft advantage ; and 
teach you the neceffity of letting no day pafs, without a 
ferious earneft application to God, for the whole fpirit of 
humility. . Fervently befeeching him to fill every part 
of your foul with it, to make it the ruling, conftant 

habit of your mind, that you may not only feel it, but 
_ feel all your other tempers arifing from it ; that you may 
_ have no thoughts, no defires, no defigns, but fuch as are 
_ the true fruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart. 

, That you may always appear poor, and little, and 
n in your own eyes, and fully content that others 
uld have the fame opinion of you. 

That the whole courfe of your life, your expenfe, your 
5 ¥2 


Me 


363 A SERIOUS ‘CALL TO A 


houfe, your drefs, your manner of eating, drinking, con- 
verfiug, and doing every thing, may be fo many contin- 
ual proofs of the true unfeigned humility of your heart. 
That you may look for nothing, claim nothing, refent 
nothing ; that you may go through all the a¢tions and 
accidents of life calmly and quietly, as in the prefence 
of God, looking wholly unto him, a€ting wholly for him; 
neither seeking vain applaufe, nor refenting negleéts, or 

affronts, but doing and receiving every thing in the mee’ 
and lowly fpirit of our Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift.” 
aad 


—<-— ini j ? 


CHAP. XX. 


Recommending devotion at twelve o’clock called in “oe 
ture the fixth hour of the day. The frequency of 
votion equally defirable by all orders of. ‘people. Univerfal 
love is here recommended to be the fubjed of prayer at 
this hour. Of interceffion, as an aG of univerfal love. — 


IT will perhaps be thought by fome people, hie 
thefe hours of prayer come too thick ; that they can 
only be obferved by people of great leifuse, and ought 
aot to be prefled upon the generality of men, who have - 
the cares of families, trades and employments ; ner upon 
the gentry, whofe ftate and figure in the world cannot 
admit of this frequency of devotion. And that it isonly 
fit for monafteries and nunneries, or fuch people as have 
no more to do in the world than they haves: : 

To this it is anfwered, 

Firft, That this method of devotion is not pelle 
upon any fort of people, as abfolutely neceflary, but rec- 
ommended to all people, as the beft, the happieft and 
moft perfe&t way of life. 

And if a great and exemplary devotion is as much the 
greateft happinefs and perfection of a merchant, a foldier, 
or a man of quality, as it is the greateft happinefs, and 
perfection of the moft retired contemplative life, then it 
is as proper to recommend it without any abatements to” 
one order of men as to'another. Becaufe happinefs and 
perfection are of the fame worth and value to al e 

The gentleman and tradefman may, and mu 


much of their time differently from the pious monk in 
the cloifier, or the contemplative hermit in the defert : 
bat then, as the monk and hermit lofe the ends of re- 
tnement, onlefs they make it all ferviceable to devotion ; 
fo the gentleman and merchant fail of the greateft ends 
of a focal life, and live to their lofs in the world, unlefs 
devotion be their chief and governing temper. 
~ Ibis certainly very honeft and creditable for people to 
_ engage in trades and employments it is reafonabie for 
gentlemen to manage well their cflates and families, and 
. fuch recreations a3 are proper to their fate. But thea 
every gentleman and tradefman lefes the greateft happi- 
nefs of his creation, is robbed of fomething that is great- 
er than: all employments, diftintions and pleafures of 
the world, if he does not live more to piety and devotion, 
than to any thing elfe in the world. 
-» Here are therefore no excufes made for men of bufi- 
nefs and figure in the world. Firit, Becaufe it would 
Be to excufe them from that which is the greateft end of 
living ; and be only fmding fo many reafons for making 
_ them lefs beneficial to themfelves, and lefs fervicezble to 
_ ‘God aad the world. 
ee Secondly, Becaufe moft men of bufinefs»and 
yengage too far in worldly matters ; much farther than 
the reafons of human life, or the ueceffities of the world 
) require. 
« » Merchants and tradefmen, for inflance, are generally 
ten times farther engaged in bofinefs than they need ; 
ewhich is fo far from being 2 reafonable excefe for ther 
want of time for devotion, that it 1s their crime, and 


-and ambition. 
‘= The gentry, and people of figure, ether them- 
felves up to ftate em or to the gratifications 


the Father of our Lord Jefus Chrift ; another 
than that which is derived from Adam ; another 
» than the Chriftian, it is in vain to plead ther 


270 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


ftate, and dignity, and pleafures, as reafons for not pre- 
paring their fouls for God, by a ftri& and regular devo- 
tion. plied 

For fince piety and devotion are the common un- 
changeable means of faving all the fouls in the world 
that fhall be faved, there is nothing left for the gentle. 
man, the foldier, and the tradefman, but to take care 
that their feveral flates be, by care and watchfulnefs, 
by meditation and grayer, made ftates of an exaét and 
folid piety. r 

If a merchant having forbore from too great bufinefs, 
that he might. quietly attend on the fervice of God; 
fhould therefore die worth twenty, inftead of fifty thou- 
fand pounds, could any one fay that he had miftaken 
his calling, or gone a lofer out of the world ? 

If a gentleman fhould have killed fewer foxes, been 
lefs frequent at balls, gaming, and merry-meetings, be- 
caufe ftated parts of his time had been given to retire- 
ment, to meditation and devotion, could it be thought, 
that when he left the world, he would regret the lofs of 
thofe hours that he had given to the care and improves 
ment of his foul ? 

If a tradefman, by afpiring after Chriftian perfetion, 
and retiring himfelf often from his bufinefs, fhould, in- 
ftead of leaving his children fortunes to fpend in luxury 
and idlenefs, leave them to live by their own honeft la- 
bour ; could it be faid, that he had made a wrong ufe of 
the world, becaufe he had fhewn his children, that he 
had more regard to that which is eternal, than.to this 
which is fo foon to be at an end. 

Since therefore devotion is not only the beft and moft 
defirable praétice in a cloifter, but the beft and moft 
defirable practice of men, as men, and in every ftate of 
life, they that defire to be excufed from it, becaufe they 
are men of figure, and eftates, and bufinefs, are no wifer 
than thofe that fhould defire to be excufed from health 
aud happinefs, becaufe they were men of figure and 
eftates. ya 

I cannot fee why every gentleman, merchant, or fol 
dier, fhould not put thefe queftions ferioufly to hi 


‘« What is the beft thing for me to intend and ¢ " a ; 


in all my ations ?- How hall I do to make the m 


s 
f 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 27? 


human life ? What ways fhall I with that I had taken, 
when I am leaving the world ?” 

Now to be thus wife; and to make thus much ufe of 
eur reafon, feems to be but a {mall and neceffary piece 
of wifdom. For how can’ we pretend to fenfe and 
judgment, if we dare not ferioufly confider, and anfwer, 
and govern our lives by that which fuch queftions re- 
quire of us ? 

Shall a nobleman think his birth too high a dignity to 
condefgend to fuch queftions as thefe? Or a tradefman 
think his bufinefs too great, to take any care about him- 
felf ? 

Now here is defired no more rer in any one’s 
life, than the anfwering thefe few queftions require. 

Any devotion that is not to the greater advantage of 
him that ufes it, than any thing that he can do in the 
room of it ; any devotion that does not procure an infi- 
nitely greater good, than can be got by neglecting it, is 
freely yielded up, here is no demand of it. 

But if people will live in fo much ignorance, as never 
to’ put thefe queftions to themfelves, but pufh on a blind 
life at all chances, in queft of they do not know what or 
why ; without ever confidering the worth, or value, or 
tendency of their ations ; without confidering what 
God; reafon and eternity, and their own happinefs res 
guire of them ; it is for the honour of devotion that none 
ean negle& i it, put thofe who are thus inconfiderate, who 
dare not inquire after that which is the beft, and moft 
worthy of their choick 

It istrue, Claudius, you are a man of figure and Mate 
and are to a& the part of fuch a ftation of human life ; 

you are not called, as Elijah was, to be a prophet, or as 
“St. Paul, to be an apoftle. 

But will you therefore not love yourfelf ? Will you 
fot feek and ftudy your own happinefs, becaufe you 
are not called to preach up the fame things to other peo- 
ie 

You would think it very abfurd, fora man not to val- 

_ue his own health, becaufe he was not a phyfician ; or the 
‘prefervation of his limbs, becaufe he was not a bone 
fetter. Yet it is more abfurd for you, Claudius, to ne- 


273 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 


gle& the improvement of your foul in piety, becaufe 
you are not an apoftle, or a bifhop. 

Confider this text of Scripture, Jf ye live after the flc/h, 
ye foall die ; but if through the /pirit ye do mortify the deeds 
of the body, ye fhall live. For as many as are led by the fpir- 
it of God, they are the fons of God. Rom. viii. 13, I4, 
Do you think that this feripture does not equally relate 
to all mankind? Can you find any exception here for 
men of figure and eftate? Is not a fpiritual and devout 
life here made the common condition, on which all men- 
are.to become fons of God? will you leave hours of — 
prayer, and rules of devotion, to particular ftates of life, 
when nothing but the fame fpirit of devotion can fave 
you, or any man, from eternal death ? 

Confider again this text : For we mujft all appear be 
fore the judgment-feat of Chrift, that every one may receive 
the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, 
whether it be good or bad. 2 Cor. v.10. Now if your 
eftate would excufe you from appearing before this judg- 
ment-feat ; if your figure could protect you from re- 
ceiving according to your works, there would be fome 
pretence for your leaving devotion to other people. 
But if you who are now thus diftinguifhed, muft then 
appear naked amongft common fouls, without any other 
diitin€tion from others, but fuch as your virtues or fins 
give you ; does it not.as much concern you, as any 
prophet, or apoftle, to make the beft provifion for the — 
beft rewards at that great day ? eg ee 

Again, confider this great doé@rine of the apottlald 
For none of us, that is, of us Chriftians, /iveth to him/elf : 
For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether 
ave die, we die unto the Lord. For to this ead Chrift both 
died, and rofe, and revived, that he might be Lord both of 
the dead and the living. 

Now are you, Claudius, excepted out of the doftrine 
of this text ? Will you, becaufe of your condition, leave 
it to any particular fort of people, to live and die unto 
Chrift ? If fo, you muft leave it to them, to be redeem-- 
ed by the death and refurreCtion of Chrift. For it is 
the exprefs doGtrine of the text, that for this end 
died and rofe again, that none of us fhould live t 
felf. It is not that priefts, or gai. oleae c 


BEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1273 


mits fhould live no longer to themfelves ; but that none 
of us, that is, no Chriftian, of what ftate foever, fhould 
live unto himfelf. _ 

If therefore there be any inftances of piety, any rules 
of devotion, which you can negleé& and yet live as truly 
unto Chrift, as if you obferved them, this text calls you 
to no fuch devotion. But if you forfake fuch devotion, 
as you yourfelf know is expeéted from fome particular 
forts of people ; fuch devotion as you know becomes 
people that live wholly unto Chrift, that afpire after 
great piety ; if you negleé fuch devotion for any world- 
ly confideration, that you may live more to your own 
temper and tafte, more to the fafhions and ways of the 
world, you forfake the terms on which all Chriftians are 
to receive the benefit of Chrift’s death and refurree- 
tion. 

Obferve farther, how the fame doétrine is taught by 
St. Peter ; As he which hath called you is holy, fo be ye ho- 
ly in all manner of converfation. 1 Pet. i. 15. 7 

If therefore, Claudius, you are one of thofe that are 
here called, you fee what it is that you are called to. It 
is not to have fo much religion as fuits with your tem- 
per, your bufinefs, or your pleafures ; it is not to a par- 
ticular fort of piety, that may be fufficient for gentlemen 
of figure and eftates ; but it is firft, to be holy, as he 
which hath called you is holy ; fecondly, it is to be thus 
holy in all manner of converfation 5 that is, to carry this 
{pirit and degree of holinefs into every part, and through 
the whole form of your life. 

And the reafon the apoftle immediately gives, why 
this {pirit of holinefs muft be the common fpirit of 
Chriftians, as fuch, is very affeCting, and fuch as equally 

-calls upon all forts of Chriftians. Fora/much as ye knows, 
~ fays he, that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, 
as filver and gold, from your vain converfation—but with 
| the precious blaod of Chrift, &c. 
_ As if he had faid, Forafmuch as ye know ye were 
-made capable of this ftate of holinefs, entered into a 
ociety with Chrift, and made heirs of his glory, not by 
iny human means, but by fuch a mytterious inftance of 
a8 infinitely exceeds every thing that can be thought 
this world ; fince God has redeemed you to him- 


€ 


274 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


felf, and your own happinefs, at fo great a price, how 
bafe and fhameful muft it be, if you do not henceforth 
devote yourfelves wholly to the glory of God, and be- 
come holy, as he who hath called you is holy ? 

If therefore, Claudius, you confider your figure and 
eftate ; or if, in the words of the text, you confider 
your gold and filver, and the corruptible things of this 
life, as any reafon why you may live to your own hu- 
mour and fancy, why you may negle& a life of ftri& 
piety and great devotion ; if you think any thing in the 
world can be an excufe for your not imitating the holi- 
nefs of Chrift in the whole courfe and form of your life, 
you may make yourfelf as guilty, as if you fhould ne- 
gle& the holinefs of Chriitianity for the fake of picking 
itraws. 

For the greatnefs of this new ftate of life to which we ~ 
are called in Chrift Jefus, to be for ever as the angels of 
God in heaven, and the greatnefs of the price by which 
we are made capable of this ftate of glory, has turned 
every thing that is worldly, temporal, and corruptible 
into an equal littlenefs ; and make it as great bafenels 
and folly, as great acontempt of the blood of Chrift, to 
nevle&t any degrees of. holinefs, becaufe you are a man 
of fome eflate and quality, as it would be to negleé it, 
becanfe you had a fancy to pick ftraws. 

Again, the fame apoftle faith, Kno ye not, that your 
body is the temple of the Holy Ghoft which is in you, and ye 
are not your own? For ye are bought with a price ; there- 
fore glorify God in your body, and in your fpirit, which are 
God’s. 1° Cor. vi. 19, 20. 

How poorly therefore, Claudius, have you read the 
feripture ? how little do you know of Chriftianity, if 
you can yet talk of your eftate and condition, as a pre- 
tence fora freer kind of life ? ‘ 

Are you any more your own, than he that has ne 
eftate or dignity in the world ? Muft mean and little peo- 
ple preferve their bodies as temples of the Holy Ghoft, 
by watching, fafting, and prayer ; but may you indulge : 
yours in idlenefs, in lufts, and fenfuality, becaufe ye — 
have fo much rent, or {uch a title of diftin@ion 
poor and ignorant are fuch thoughts as thefe ? 
you mutt either think thus, or elfe acknowledge, t 


w » 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. - = 275 


holinefs of faints, prophets, and apoftles is the holinefs 
that you are to labour after with all the diligence and 
care that you can. 

And if you leave it to others, to live in fuch piety 
and devotion, in fuch felf-denial, humility and temper- 
ance, as may render them able to glorify God in their 
body, and in their fpirit ; you mutt leave it to them alfo, 
to have the benefit of the blood of Chrift. 

Again ; the apoftle faith, You know how we exhort- 
ed, comforted, and charged every one of you, that you would 
walk worthy of God, who hath called you to his kingdom 
and glory, 1 Theff. ii. 11. 

You perhaps, Claudius, have often heard thefe words 
without ever thinking how much they required of you. 
And yet you cannot confider them, without perceiving 
to what an eminent ftate of holinefs they call you. 

For how can the holinefs of the Chriftian life be fet 
before you in higher terms, than when it is reprefented 
to you, as walking worthy of God? Can you think of 
any abatements of virtue, any negleéts of devotion, that 
are well confiftent with a life, that is to be made worthy 
of God ? Can you fuppofe that any man walks in this 
manuer, but he that watches over all his fteps ; and 
confiders how every thing he does, may be done in the 
fpirit of holinefs ? And yet as high as thefe expreffions 
carry this holinefs, it is here plainly made the neceflary 
holinefs of all Chriftians. For the apoftle does not here 
exhort his fellow apoftles and faints to this holinefs, 
but he commands all Chriftians to endeavour after it : 
We charged, fays he, every one of you, that you would 

_ walk worthy of God, who hath called you to bis kingdom 
and glory. 
_ Again ; St. Peter faith, [f any man fpeak, let him peak 
as the oracles of God ; if any man minifter, let him do it as 
of the ability that God giveth ; that God in all things may 
be glorified in Chriff Jefus, 1 Pet. iv. 11. 
Do you not here, Claudius, plainly perceive your 
b gh calling ? Is he that fpeaketh, to have fuch regard 
to his words, that he appear to fpeak as by the direction 
of God ? Is he that giveth, to take care that he fo giveth, 
that what he difpofeth of may appear to be a gift that 
x 


Ae 


276 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


he hath of God? And is all this to be done, that God — 
may be glorified in all things ? e*4 
Muit it not then be faid, has any man nobility, dig- — 
nity of flate, or figure in the world? let him fo ufe his 
nobility or figure of life, that it may appear he ufes thefe 
as the gifts of God, for the greater fetting forth of his — 
glory. Is there now, Claudius, any thing forced, or — 
far-fetched in this conclufion ? Is it not the plain fenfe | 
of the words, that every thing in life isto be madea — 
matter of holinefs unto God? If fo, then your eftate 
and dignity is fo far from excufing you from great piety 
and holinefs of life, that it lays you under a greater ne- 
ceffity of living more to the glory of God, becaufe you — 
have more of his gifts that may be made ferviceable — 
to it. bate 
For people therefore of figure, or bufinefs, or dignity 
in tlie world, to leave great piety and eminent devotion — 
to any particular orders of men, or fuch as they think — 
have little elfe to do in the world, is to leave the kingdom — 
of God to them. For it is the very end of Chriftianity — 
to redeem all orders of men into one holy fociety, that 
rich and poor, high and low, mafters and fervants,-may 
in one and the fame {pirit of piety, become a cho/en gene= 
ration, a royal priefthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people, 
that are to Sew forth the praifes of him, who hath called 
them out of darknefs, into his marvellous. light. 1 Peter 
il. 9. ' ‘ f 4 
Thus much being faid to thew, that great devotion 
and holinefs is not to be left to any particular fort of - 
people, but to be the common fpirit of all that defire to 
live up to the terms of common Chriftianity ; I now 
proceed to confider the nature and neceflity of univerfal 
love, which is here recommended to be the fubje& of © 
your devotion at this hour. You are here alfo called to 
jnterceffion, as the moft proper exercife to raife and 
preferve that love. By interceffion is meant a praying ; 
to God, and interceding with him for our fellow crea- 
tures. ‘ os gg ll 
Our bleffed Lord hath recommended his love 
as the pattern and example of our love to one : 


As therefore he is continually making int 


7 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIVE. QF 


us all, fo ought we to intercede and pray for one an- 
other. 

A new commandment, faith he, I give unto you, that ye 
love one another, as I have loved you. By this /hall all men 
know that ye are my difciples, if ye love one another. 

The newnefs of this precept did not confift in this, 
that men were commanded to love one another ; for 
this was an eld precept, both of the law of Mofes, and 
‘of nature. But it was new in this refpe@, that it was 
to imitate a new, and till then unheard-of example of 
love ; it was to love one another, as Chrift had loved us. 

And if men are to know that we are difciples of 
Chrift, by thus loving one another according to his new 
example of love; then it is certain, that if we are void 
of this love, we make it as plainly known unto men, that 
‘we are none of his difciples. 

There is no principle of the heart that is more accept- 

able to God, than an univerfal fervent love to all mankind, 
withing and praying for their happinefs ; becaufe there 
is no principle of the heart that makes us more like God, 
who is love and goodnefs itfelf, and created all beings for 
their enjoyment of happinefs. 
’ The greateft idea that we can frame of God is, when 
we conceive him to be a being of infinite love and good- 
nefs ; ufing an infinite wifdom and power for the common 
good and happinefs of all his creatures. - 

The higheft notion therefore that we can form of man 
is when we conceive him as like to God in this refpe@ 
as he can be ; ufing all his finite faculties, whether of 
wifdom, power, or prayers, for the common good of all 
his fellow-creatures ; heartily defiring they may have all 
the happinefs they are capable of, and as many benefits 

_ and affiftances from him, as his ftate and condition in the ” 
world will permit him to give them. 
~ And on the other hand, what a bafenefs and iniquity 
_ is there in all inftances of hatred, envy, fpite, and ill-will ; 
if we confider, that every inftance of them is fo far ating 
_ in oppofition to God, and intending mifchief and harm to 
_ thofe creatures, which God favours, and protects, and 
_ preferves, in order to ‘their happinefs ? An ill-natured . 
lan amongft God s creatures, is the moft perverfe crea- 
ture in the world, a&ting contrary to that love, by which 
‘ 


that variety of beings, that enjoy life in any part of the 
creation. Whatfoever ye would that men fhould do unto you, 
even fo do unto them. west 

Now though this is a doctrine of ftri&t juftice, yet it is 
only an univerfal love that can comply with it. For as 
love is the meafure of our aéting towards ourfelves, fo we 
can never aé in the fame manner towards other people, 
till we look upon them with that love with which we 
look upon ourfelves. 


‘ 
oF 
As we have no degrees of {pite, or envy, or ill-will to . 
k 
t 


278 A SERIOUS CALL TOA 
himfelf fubfifts, and which alone gives fubfiftenee te all 


ourfelves, fo we cannot be difpofed towards others as we 
are towards ourfelves, till we univerfally renounce all in- 
{tances of fpite and envy, and ill-will, eyen in the fmalleft 
degrees. ite 

If we had any imperfeétion in our eyes, that made us 
fee any one thing wrong, forthe fame reafon they wou 
fhew us an hundred things wrong. 

So if we have any temper of our hearts, that makes us 
envious or fpiteful, or ill-natured towards any one man 
the fame temper will make us envious, and fpiteful, and 
ill-natured towards a great many more. ' 

If therefore we defire this divine virtue of love, we 
mutt exercife and praétife our hearts in the love of all, — 
becaufe it is not Chriftian love, till it is the love of all. 

If a man could keep this whole law of love, and yet — 
offend: in one point, he would be guilty of all. For as— 
one alléwed inftance of injuftice deftroys the juttice of a 
all our other ations, fo one allowed inftance of envy, 
{pite, and ill-will, renders alt our other aéts of benevolence — 
and affeétion nothing worth. v0 

A&s of love that proceed not from a principle of uni- — 
verfal love are but like aéts of juttice, that proceed from 
a heart not difpofed to univerfal juftice. Mobic. cre 

A love which is not univerfal, may indeed have ten- — 
dernefs and affetion, but it hath nothing of righ nN 
nefs or piety in it; it is but humour, and temp 
intereft, or fuch a love as publicans and heathens 
tife. eer ed 

All particular envies and fpites, are as plain 
from the fpirit of Chriftianity, as any partic 
injuftice. For it is as much a law of Chrif 


2 --4. wetdew ae 


> 


a 


‘ 
i ie 


* 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIPE. 279 


every body as your neighbour, and to love your neigh- 
bour as yourfelf, as it is a law of Chriftianity, to abftain 
from theft. 

- Now the nobleft motive to this univerfal tendernefs 
and affeétion, is founded in this do@trine, Ged is lve, 
and he that dweileth in him, dwelleth in God. 

’ Who therefore, whofe heart has any tendency to- 
wards God, would not afpire after this divine temper, 
which fo changes and exalts our nature into an union 
with him. 

How fhould we rejoice in the exercife and praétice 
of this love, which fo often as we feel it, is fo often an 
affurance to us, that God is in us, that we a& according 
to’his fpirit, who is love itfelf? But we muft obferve 
that love has then only this mighty power of uniting us 
to God, when it is fo pure and univerfal, as to imitate 
that love, which God beareth to all his creatures. i 

_ God willeth the happinefs of all beings, though it is 
ho happinefs to himfelf. Therefore we muft defire the 
happinefs of all beings, though no happinefs cometh to 
us from it. ; 

God equally delighteth in the perfections of all his 
Creatures, therefore we fhould rejoice in thofe perfec- 
tions, wherever we fee them, and be as glad to have 
other people perfe& as ourfelves. 

* As God forgiveth all, and giveth grace to all, fo we 
‘fhould forgive all thofe injuries and affronts which we 
receive from others, and do all the good that we can to 
them. 
* God almighty, befides his own great example of love 
which ought to draw all his creatures after it, has. fo 
provided for us, and made our happinefs fo commdn to 
‘us all, that we have no occafion to envy or hate one 
another. b 
_ For we cannot ftand in one another’s way, or by en- 
" joying any particular good, keep another from, his full 
| thare of it. As we cannot be happy, but imthe enjoy- 
“ment of God, fo we cannot rival, or rob one another of © 
thi inefs. 

And as to other things, the enjoyments and profperi-_ 
es of this life, they are fo little in themfelves, fo foreign 
happinefs, and, generally fpeaking, fo contrary 

Ze 


280 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


to that which they appear to be, that cheyrare’ no foun- 
dation for envy, or f{pite, or hatred. 

How filly would it be to envy a man, that was drink 
ing poifon out of a golden cup? and yet who can fay, 
that he is a€ting wifer than thus, when he is envying any 
inftance of worldly greatnefs ? 

How many faints has adverfity fent to heaven? And 
how many poor finners has profperity plunged into 
everlafting mifery ? A man feems then to be in the mof 

lorious ftate, when he has conquered, difgraced, and 
humbled his enemy ; though it may be, that fame con- 
queft has faved his adverfary, and undone himfelf. . ~ 

This man had perhaps never been debauched, but for 
his fortune and advancement ; that had never been pious 
but through his poverty and difgrace, 

She that is envied for her beauty; may perchance owe 
all her mifery to it ; and another may be for ever hap- 
py for having had no admirers of her perfon. rape 

One man fucceeds in every thing, and fo lofes all: 
another meets with nothing but croffes, and difappoint- 
ments, and thereby gains more than all the world is 
worth. 

This clergyman may be undone by his being made a 
bifhop ; and that may fave both himfelf and others, by 
being fixed to his firft poor vicarage. 

How envied was Alexander, when conquering the 

world, he built towns, fet up his ftatues, and left marks © 
of his glory in fo many kingdoms! And how defpifed — 
was the poor preacher St. Paul, when he was beaten — 
with rods! And yet how ftrangely was the world mif~ 
taken in their judgment ! How much to be envied was 
St. Paul! How much to be pitied was Alexander! . 

Thefe few reflections fufficiently fhew us, t that the — 
different conditions of this life have nothing in them to 
excite our uneafy paffions, nothing that can reafonably — 
interrupt our love and affection to one another, = 

To proceed now to another motive to this univerfal 
love. i 

Our power of doing external aéts of dove and goodnels 
is often very narrow and reftrained. ‘There are, it é 
be, but few people to whom we ean contribut 
worldly relief. i 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 281 


But though our outward means of doing good are of- 
ten thus limited, yet if our hearts are but full of love 
and goodnefs, we get as it were an infinite power ; be- 
‘caufe God will attribute to us thofe good works, thofe 
a&ts of love and tender charities, which we fincerely de- 

fired, and would gladly have performed, had it been in 

in our power. 
_ You cannot heal all the fick, relieve all the poor ; you 
cannot comfort all in diftrefs, nor be a father to all the 
fatherlefs. You cannot, it may be, deliver many from 
their misfortunes, or teach them to find comfort in 
God. . 

But if there is a love and tendernefs in your heart that 
delights in thefe good worksy and excites you to do all 
that you can; if your love has no bounds, but continu- 
ally wifhes and prays for the relief and happinefs of all 
that are in diftrefs, you will be received by God as a ben- 
efaGtor to thofe, who have had nothing from you but 

_ your good will, and tender affections. 

You cannot build hofpitals for the incurable ; you can- 

not ereét monafteries for the education of perfons in holy 
folitude, continual prayer and mortification ; but if you 
join in your heart with thofe that do, and thank God for 
their pious defigns ; if you are a friend to thefe great 
friends to mankind, and rejoice in their eminent virtues, 
you will be received by God as a fharer of fuch good 

‘works, as though they had none of your hands, yet they 
had all your heart. 

This confideration furely is fufficient to make us look 
to, and watch over our hearts with all diligence ; to 
ftudy the improvement of our inward tempers, and afpire 
after every height and perfection of a loving, charitable, 
and benevolent mind. ~ 

And on the other hand, we may hence learn the great 
evil and mifchief of all wrong turns of mind, of envy, 
fpite, hatred, and ill-will. For if the goodnefs of our 

hearts will entitle us to the reward of good aétions, 

which we never performed ; it is certain that the badnefs 

* of our hearts, our envy, ill-nature and hatred, will bring 

_ us under the guilt of actions that we have never com- 


| -anitted. 


As he that lufteth after a woman fhall be reckoned 


+ 
es ¢ 


382 - A SERIOUS CALL TO A : 


an adulterer, though he has only committed the crime 
in his heart ; fo the malicious, {piteful, ill-natured man 
that only fecretly rejoices at evil, fhall be reckoned a 
murderer, though he has fhed no blood. 

Since therefore our hearts, which are always naked, 
and open to the eyes of God, give fuch an exceeding ex-— 
tent and increafe either to our virtues or vices, it is our 
beft and greateft bufinefs to govern the motions of our 
hearts, to watch, correét, and improve the inward fate 
and temper of our fouls, 

Now there is nothing that fo much exalts our fouls, 
as this heavenly love, it cleanfes and purifies like a holy’ 
fire, and all ill tempers fall away before it. It makes 
room for all virtues, and carries them to their greateft 
height. Every thing that is good and holy grows out 
of it, and it becomes a continual fource of all holy ¢ de- 
fires, and pious practices. By love, I do not mean any 
natural tendernefs, which is more or lefs in people ac- ™ 
cording to their conftitutions ; but I mean a larger prin= ¥ 
ciple of the foul, founded in reafon and piety, which © 
makes us tender, kind, and benevolent to all our fellow- ~ 
creatures, as creatures of God, and for his fake. 

It is this love that loves all things in God, as his. 
creatures, as the images of his power, as the creatures 
of his goodnefs, as parts of his family, as members of 
his fociety, that becomes a holy principle . all great 
and good aétions. 

The love therefore of our neighbour is Sip a branch 
of our love to God. For when we love Ged with all 
our hearts, and with all our fouls, and with all our 
ftrength, we fhall_neceffarily love thofe beings that are 
fo nearly related'to God, that have every thing from * 
him, and ere him, to be objeéts of his own eter- 
nal love. If I hate or defpife any one man in the world, 

I hate fomething that God cannot hate, and defpife Chae 
which ke loves. F 

And can I think that I fire God with all my Leis 
whilft I hate that which belongs only to God, which has 
no other mafter but him, which bears his i image, is 
of his family, and exifts only by the continuance | 
Yove towards it ? It was the impoflibility of th 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 283 - 


made St. John fay, That if any man faith, he loveth God; 
and hateth his brother, he is a liar. 

Thefe reafons fufficiently fhew us, that no love is holy 
or religious, till it becomes univerfal. 

For if religion requires me to love all perfons, as 
God’s creatures, that belong to him, that bear his image, 
enjoy. his proteCtion, and make parts of his family and 
houfehold ; if thefe are the great and neceffary reafons 
why I fhould live in love and friendfhip with any one 
man in the world, they are the fame great and neceflary 
reafons why I fhould live in love and friendfhip with every 
one man in the world : and confequently I offend againft 
all thefe reafons, and break through all thefe ties and 
obligations, whenever I want love towards any one man. 
The fin therefore of hating or defpifing any one man, 
is like the fin of hating all God’s creation 5 and the ne- 
ceflity of loving any one man, is the fame neceffity of 


_ loving every man in the world. And though many peo- 


ple may appear to us ever fo finful, odious, or extrava- 


_ gant in their conduct, we muft never look upon that as 


the leaft motive for any contempt or difregard of them, 
but look upon them with the greater compaffion, as be- 
ing in the moft pitiable condition that can be. 

As it was the fins of the world, that made the Son of 


- God become a compaffionate fuffering advocate for all 


mankind ; fo none is of the Spirit of Chrift, but he that 
has the utmoft compaffion for finners. Nor is there any 
greater fign of your own perfeétion, than when you find 
yourfelf all love and compaffion towards them that are 
very weak and defedtive. And on the other hand, you 
have never lefs reafon to be pleafed with yourfelf, than 
when you find yourfelf moft angry and offended at the 
behaviour of others. - All fin is certainly to be hated and 


_ abhorred wherever it is; but then we muft fet ourfelves 


againft fin, as we do againft ficknefs and difeafes, by 
fhewing ourfelves tender and compaffionate to the fick 
and difeafed. 

All other hatred of fin, which does not fill the heart 
with the fofteft, tendereft affeCtions towards perfons mif- 


erable in it, is the fervant of fin at the fame time that it 
_ feems to be hating it. epeletiite 


And there is no temper which even good mencought 


284 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 7 


. more carefully to watch and guard againft than this: 
For it isa temper that lurks and hides itfelf under the ~ 
cover of many virtues, and by being unfufpeéted does an ) 
more mifchief. 

A man naturally fancies, that it is his own exceedin 
love of virtue that makes him not able to bear with sing 
that want it. And when he abhors one man, defpifes 
another, and cannot bear the name of a third, he fup- 
pofes it all to be a proof of his own high fenfe of virtue, 
and juft hatred of fin. 

And yet one would think, that a man needed no other 
cure for this diftemper, than this one refleétion : % 

That if this had been the Spirit of the Son of God, 
if he had hated fin in this manner, there had been no re~ 
demption of the world: That if God had hated finners — 
in this manner day and night, the world itfelf had ceafed 
long ago. ¥ 

This therefore we may take for a certain rule, that the 
more we partake of the divine nature, the more improved 
we are ourfelves ; and the higher our fenfe of virtue is, 
the more we fhall pity and compaffionate thofe that want” 
it. The fight of fuch people will then, inftead of raifing 
in us a haughty contempt, or peevifh indignation, to= 
wards them, filk us with fuch bowels of compaffion, as 
when we fee the miferies of an hofpital. 

That the follies therefore, crimes anlé ill behaviour of 
our fellow-creatures, may not leffen that love and tender= 
nefs which we are to have for all mankind, we fhould 
often confider the reafons on which this duty of sai: is 
founded. ¢ 

Now we are to love our neighbour, that is, all man- 
kind, not becaufe they are wife, holy, virtuous, or well-» . 
behaved ; for all mankind neither ever was, nor ever will 
be fo > theeetored it is certain, that the reafon of our being : 
obliged to love them, cannot be founded in their virtue. — 

Again ; if their virtue or goodnefs were the reafon of 
our being obliged to love people, we fhould have no rule 
to proceed by ; becaufe though fome people’s virtue brag) 
vices are very notorious, yet, generally {peaking, we arebut — 

‘very ill judges of the virtue and merit of other pee 

Thirdly, We are fure that the virtue or merit 
fons, is not the reafon of our being obliged to love 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 285 
becaufe we are comnianded to pay the higheft inftances 


- of love to our worft enemies ; we are to love, and blefs, 


and pray for thofe that moft injurioufly treat us. This 
therefore is demonftration, that the merit of perfons is 
not the reafon on which our obligation to love them is 
founded. 

Let us farther confider, what that love is, which we 
owe to our neighbour. It is to love him as ourfelves, 
that is, to have all thofe fentiments towards him, which 
we have towards ourfelves ; to wifh him every thing that 
we may lawfully with to ourfelves ; to be glad of every 
good, and forry for every evil that happens to him : and 
be ready todo him all fuch aéts of kindnefs, as we are 
always ready to do ourfelves. 

This love therefore, you fee, is nothing elfe but a love 


_ of benevolence ; it requires nothing of us, but fuch good - 


s 


withes, tender affeGtions, and fuch aéts of kindnefs, as we 
fhew to ourfelves. 

This is all the love that we owe to the beft of men ; 
and we are never to want any degree of this love to the 
wort, or moft unreafonable man in the world. 

Now what is the reafon why we are to love every 
man in this manner? It is anfwered that our obligations 
to love all men in this manner, is founded upon many 
reafons. 

Firft, Upon a reafon of equity : for ifit is juft to love 
ourlelves in this manner, it muft be unjuft to deny any 
degree of this love to others, becaufe every man is fo 
exactly of the fame nature, and in the fame condition as 
ourfelves. 

If therefore your own crimes and follies do not leffen 
your obligation to feek your own good, and wifh well to 
yourfelf ; neither do the follies and crimes of your 
neighbour leffen your obligation to with and feek the 
good of your neighbour. 

Another reafon for this love is founded in the author- 
ity of God, who has commanded us to love every man as 
yourfelf. 

Thirdly, We are obliged to this love, in imitation of 
’s goodnefs, that we may be children of our Father, 
ich is in Heaven, who willeth the happinefs of all his 


286 ‘A SERIOUS CALL TO A 7 


creatures, and maketh his fun to rife on the evil, and on : 
the good. } pS ole 
Fourthly, Our redemption by Jefus Chrift, calleth us — 
to the exercife of this love, who came from heaven, and 
laid down his life, out of love to the whole finful world. 
Fifthly, By the command of our Lord and Saviour, 
who has required us to love one another, as he has loved — 
us. ee 
- Thefe are the great perpetual reafons, on which 
our obligation to love all mankind as ourfelves, is 
founded. aa 
Thefe reafons never vary, or change, they always con- — 
tinue in their full force ; and therefore equally oblige at — 
all times, and in regard to all perfons. ae 
God loves us, not becaufe we are wife, and good, and — 
holy, but in pity to us, becaufe we want this happinefs: — 
he loves us, in order to make us good. Our love there- 
fore muft take this courfe ; not looking for, or requiring — 
the merit of our brethren, but pitying their diforders, 
and wifhing them all the good that they want, and are 
capable of receiving. me 
It appears now plainly from what has been faid, that 
the love which we owe to our brethren, is only a 
love of benevolence. Secondly, That this duty of be- — 
_ nevolence is founded upon fuch reafons as never va- 
ry or change; fuch as have no dependence upon the 
qualities of perfons. From whence it follows, that it 
is the fame great fin, to want this love to a bad man, as 
to want it toa good man. Becaufe he that denies any 
of this benevolence to a bad man, offends againft all 
the fame reafons of love, as he does that denies any be- 
nevolence to a good man: And confequently it is the — 
fame fin. a 
When therefore you let loofe an ill natured paf- 
fion, either of hatred or contempt towards (as you 
fuppofe) an ill man, confider what you would think — 
of another, that was doing the fame towards a g 
man, and be affured that you are committing the 
fin. eC 
You will perhaps fay, How is it poffible 
good and a bad man in the fame degree? 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 287 


- Juft as it is poffible to be as juft and faithful to a good 
man, as to an evil man. Now are you in any difficulty 
about performing juftice and faithfulnefs to a_bad man ? 
Are you in any doubts, whether you need be fo juft and 
faithful to him, as you need be to a good man? Now 
why is it, that you are in no doubt about it ? It is be- 
‘caufe you know that juftice and faithfulnefs are founded 
upon reafons that never vary or change, that have no 
dependance upon the merits of men, but are founded 
in the nature of things, in the laws of God, and there- 
fore are to be obferved with unequal exaétnefs towards 
good and bad men. : 

Now do but think thus juftly of charity, or love to 

your neighbour, that it is founded upon reafons, that 
vary not, that have no dependance upon the merits of 
men, and then you will find it as poffible to perform the 
fame exact charity, as the fame exa@ juttice to all men, 
whether good or bad. 
_ You will perhaps farther afk, if you are not to havea 
particular efteem, veneration and reverence for good 
men? Itisanfwered ; Yes. But then this high efteem 
and veneration, is a thing very different from that love 
_ of benevolence which we owe to our neighbour. 
The high efteem and veneration which you have for 
a man of eminent piety, is no a& of charity to him; 
it is not of pity and compaffion that you fo reverence 
him, but it is rather an a& of charity to yourfelf, that 
{uch efteem and veneration may excite you to follow his 
example. 
__You may, and ought to love, like, and approve the 
life which the good man leads ; but then this is only the 
loving of virtue, wherever we fee it. And we do not 
love virtue with the love of benevolence, as any thing 
that wants our good wifhes, but as fomething that is our 
proper good. 

The whole of the matter is this. The ations which 
“you are to love, efteem and admire, are the ations of 
“good and pious men ; but the perfons to whom you are 
to do all the good you can, in all forts of kindnefs and 
compaflion, are all perfons whether good or bad. 
wh his diftinGion betwixt love of benevolence, and efteem 
Aa 


288 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


or veneration, is very plain and! obvious. And you may 
perhaps ftill better fee the plainnefs and neceffity ty 
by this following inftance. sce oop: berber guke % 

No man is to have a high efteem, or Ieestintadlne dhe 
owni accomplifhments, or behaviour ; yet every man is 
to love himfelf, that is, to wifh_well to himfelf 5 th 
fore this diftin@ion betwixt love and efteem, is not only 
plain, but very neceflary to be obferved. 

Again : if you think it hardly poffible to diflike the 
ations of unreafonable men, and yet have a true love for 
them : confider this with relation to yourfelf. ine 

It is very poffible, I hope, for you not only to:diflike, 
but to deteft and abhor a great many of your own, pait 
aétions, and to accufe yourfelf with great folly for them. 
But do you then lofe any of thofe tender fentiments to- 
wards yourfelf, which you ufed to have ?, Do you then 
ceafe to wifh well to yourfelf ? Is not the love of your- 
felf as {trong then, as at any other time? 

Now what is thus poflible with relation.to ourfelyés, 
is in the fame manner poffible with relation to others. 
We may have. the higheft good wifhes towards them, 
' defirin them. every good that we defire for our- 

felves, et at the fame time diflike their way of life. - 

To proceed ; all that love which we may juftly have 
for ourfelves, we are in ftri&t juftice obliged to exercife 
towards all other men ; and we offend againft the great 
law of our nature, and the greateft laws of God, when 
our tempers towards others are different from thofe 
which we have towards ourfelves. 

Now that felf-love which is juft and reafonable, keeps 
us conftantly tender, compaffionate, and well affeéted to- 
wards ourfelves ; if therefore you donot feelthefe kind 
difpofitions towards all other people, you may be af- 
fured, that you are not in that ftate of tie ili which 
is the very life and foul of Chriftian piety. _ 

You know how it hurts you to be pir set jet and 
ridicule of other people ; how it grieves you to be robbed 
of your reputation, and deprived of the-favourable opin- 
ion ef your neighbours: If therefore you expofe others 
to fcorn and contempt in any degree ; if it pleafes 
fee er hear ef their frailties er infirmities; or if 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 289 


“ 
orily loath to conceal their faults, you are fo far from 
loving fuch people as yourfelf, that you may be juttly 
~ fuppofed to have as much hatred from them, as you have 
‘love for yourfelf.. For fuch tempers are as truly the 
“proper fruits of hatred, as the contrary tempers are the 
proper fruits of love. ‘ 
» And as it is a certain fign that you love yourfelf, 
becaufe you are tender of every thing that concerns 
‘you : fo it is as certain a fign that you hate your neigh- 
dour, when you are pleafed with any thing that hurts 
m. 
-» Bur now, ifthe want of a true and exa& charity be 
‘fo great a want, that, as St. Paul faith, it renders our 
greateft virtues but empty founds, and tinkling cymbals, 
how highly does it concern us to fludy every art, and 
» pradtife every method of raifing our fouls to this ftate of 
charity ? It is for this reafon, that you are here defired, 
not to let this hour of prayer pafs, without a full and 
. folemn fupplication to God, for all the inftances of an 
-univerfal love and benevolence to all mankind. 
_. Such daily conftant devotion, being. the only likely 
“means of preferving yeu in fuch a ftate of love, as is 
* -neceflary to prove you to be a true follower of Jefus 
» Chrift. 


—_— p> 


CHAP. XXI. 
» Of the neceffity and benefit of interceffion, confidered as. aa 


\ ” exercife of univerfal love. How all orders of men are 
"+ t0 pray and: intercede with God for one another. How 
naturally. fuch interceffion amends and reforms the hearts 
of thofe that ufe it. ’ 
Ros 


pre, THAT interceffion is a great and neceflary part 
ef Chriftian devotion, is very evident from fcripture.. 
The firft followers of Chrift feem to fupport all their 
» love, and to maintain all their. intercourfe -and.corref- 
_ pondence, by mutual prayers for one another. 


= | 


290 A SERIOUS CALL TO-A 


St. Paul, whether he writes to churches, or particular 
perfons, fhews his interceflion to be perpetual for them, 
that they are the conftant fubjeét of his prayers. 

Thus to the Philippians, / thank my God upon every r re- 
membrance of you. Always in every prayer of mine for you 
all, making requeft with joy. Phil. i. 4, 5. Here we fee, 

not only a continual interceffion, but aeibormad with fo. 
much gladnefs as fhews that it was an exercife of totes 
in which he highly rejoiced. ibe r 

His devotion had alfo the fame care for drsicolin 
perfons ; as appears by the following paflage. J thank 
my God, whom I ferve from my forefathers, with @ pure 
confcience, that, without ceufing, I have remembrance of thee 
in my prayers night and day, 2 Tim. i. 3. How holy 
an acquaintance gerd friendfhip was. this, how areata 
of perfons that were raifed above the. world, and. 

‘to one another,-as new members of a kingdom of 
heaven ! Oe Witte Bb 

Apoftles and great faints did not only thus. benefit and 
~ blefs particular churches, and private perfons ; but they 
themfelves alfo received graces from God by the prayers 
of others. Thus faith St. Paul to the Corinthians, You 
alfo helping together by prayer for us, that for - the gift.be beftow- 
ed upon us by the means of many perfons, thanks may Segiven ia 
by many on our behalf, 2 Cor. i. 11. nl he ee 

This was the ancient friendfhip of Chradeasta uniting 
and cementing their hearts, not by worldly confidera- 
tions of human paffions, but by the mutual communica= 
tions of fpiritual bleflings, by ‘or and thankigivings 
to God for one another. 

It was this holy interceffion that raifed. Chriftians to 
fuch a flate of mutual love, as far exeeded all that had 
been praifed and admired in human friendfhip. And 
when the fame {pirit of interceffion is again in the 
world, when Chriftianity has the fame power over the 
hearts of people, that it then had, this holy friendfh 
will be again in fafhion, and Chriftians will be again: 
wonder of the world, for that exceeding love’ which 
bear to one another. 

For a frequent interceffion with God, earnef 
feeching him to forgive the fins of all mankind, 
them with his providence, enlighten them ™ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 29} 


Spirit, and bring them to everlafting happinefs, is the. 
diyineft exercife that the heart of man can be engaged 
in. 

Be daily therefore on your knees in a folemn, delibe- 
rate performance of this devotion, praying for others in 
forms, with fuch length and importunity, and earneft- 
nefs, as you ufe for yourfelf; and you will find all little 
ill-natured paffions die away, your heart growygyeat and 
generous, delighting in the common happinefs 9 wthers, 
as you ufed only to delight in your own. or 

For he thst daily prays to God, that all men may be 
happy in heaven, takes the likelieft way to make him 
with for, and delight in their bappinefs on earth. And 
it is hardly poffible for you to befeech and intreat God 
to make any one happy in the higheft enjoyments of his 
glory to all eternity, and yet be troubled to fee him enjoy 
the much fmaller gifts of God in this fhort and low ftate 
of human life? For how firange and unnatural would 
it be to pray to God to grant health and a longer life to 
a fick man, and at the fame time to envy him the poor 
pleafures of agreeable medicines? Yet this wayld.bs no 
more ftrange, or unnatural, than to pray to God that 
your neighbour may enjoy the higheft degrees of his 
mercy and favour, and yet at the fame time envy him 
the little credit and figure he hath amongft his fellow- 
creatures. 

When therefore you have once habituated your heart 
to a ferious performance of this holy “interceffion, you 
have done a great deal to render it incapable of fpite 
and envy, and to makevit naturally delight in the happi- 
nefs of all mankind. This is the natural effe& of a gen- 
eral intercéffion for all mankind. But the greateft-hen- 
efits of it are then received, when it defcends to fuch 
particular inftlances as our ftate and condition in life 

_more particularly require of us. 

. Though we are’to treat all mankind as neighbours and 

brethren, as any occafion offers ; yet as we can only live 
in the actual fociety of a few, and are by.our ftate and 
i condition more particularly related to fome than others ;_ 
_ fo when our interceffion is made an exercife of love and 
i eare for thofe amongit whom our lot is fallen, or who 
_ belong to us in a nearer relation, it then becomes the 
Aa2 


292 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


greateft benefit to ourfelves, and produces its beft effeéts: 
m our own hearts. If therefore you fhould always 
change and alter your interceffions according as the needs 
and neceflities of your neighbours or acquaintance feemy 
to require ; befeeching God to deliver them from fuch 
or fuch particular evils, or to grant them this or that par= 
ticular gift, or blefling ; fuch interceffions, befides the — 
great charity of them, would have a mighty effeét 
upon your own heart, as difpofing you to every other 
good office, and to the exercife of every other virtue 
towards fuch perfoys, as have fo often a piace in’your 
prayers. es 

This would make it pleafant to you to be courteous, 
civil and condefcending to all about you ; and make you 
unable to fay, or do, a rude, or hard thing to thofe, for 
whom you had ufed yourfelf to be fo kind and compaf- 
fionate in your prayers. Fer there is nothing that makes 
us love a man fo much, as praying for him ; and when 
you can once do this fincerely for any man, you have 
fiited your foul for the performance of every thing that 
is kind and civil towards him. This will fill your heart 
with a generofity and tendernefs, that will give you a 
better and fweeter behaviour, than any thing that is call 
ed fine breeding and good manners. sialic ta 

By confidering yourfelf as an advocate with God for 
your neighbours and acquaintance, you would never find 
it hard to be at peace with them yourfelf. It’would be 
eafy to you to bear with, and forgive thofe, for whom 
you particularly implored the divine merey and forgive- 
nefs. me “au 

Such prayers as thefe amongft neighbours and acquaint- - 
ance, would unite them to one another in the ftrongeft 
bonds of loye and tendernefs. It would exalt and enno- 
ble their fouls, and teach them to confider one another 
in a higher ftate, as members of a fpiritual fociety, that 
are created for the enjoyment of the common bleflings — 
of God, and fellow-heirs of the fame future glory. And — 
by being thus defirous, that every one fhould have their — 
full hare of the favours of God, they would not only” 
be content, but glad to fee one another happy in the! 
tle enjoyments of this tranfitory life. Thefe would b 
the natural effeéts of fuch an interceflion amongit people 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 235 


of the fame town or neighbourhood, or that were ac- 
quainted with one another’s ftate and condition. 
~ Ouranius is a holy prieft, full of the {pirit of the gof- 
pel, watching, labouring, and praying for a poor country 
village. Every foul in it is as dear to him as himfelf 5 
and he loves them all, as he loves himfelf ; becaufe he 
prays for them all, as often as he prays for himfelf. If 
his whole life is one continual exercife of great zeal and 
labour, hardly ever fatisfied with any degrees of care and 
watchfulnefs, it is becaufe he has learned the great value 
of fouls, by fo often appearing before God, as af inter- 
ceffor for them. 
He never thinks he can love, or do enough for his 
flock ; becaufe he never confiders them in any other 
view, than as fo many perfons, that by receiving the gifts 
and graces of God, are to become his hope, his joy, and 
his crown of rejoicing. He goes about his parifh, and 
vifits every body init ; but vifits in the fame fpirit of pi- 
ety that he preaches to them ; he vifits them to encour- 
age their virtues, to affi@ them with his advice and coun- 
fel, to difcover their manner of life, and to know the 
ftate of their fouls, that he may intercede with God for 
them, according to their particular neceflities. 
When Ouranius firft entered into holy orders, he had 
a haughtinefs in his temper, a great contempt and difre- 
gard for all foolifh and unreafonable people ; but he has 
prayed away this fpirit, and has now the greateft tender- 
nefs for the moft obftinate finners ; becaufe he is always 
hoping, that God will fooner or later hear thofe prayers 
that he makes for their repentance. The rudenefs, ill- 
nature, or perverfe behaviour of any of his flock, ufed 
at firft to betray him into impatience ; but it now raifes 
no other paffion in him, than a defire of being upon his 
knees in prayer to God for them. 
_ Thus have his prayers for others, altered and amended 
the ftate of his own heart. It would ftrangely delight 
_ you to fee with what fpirit he converfes, with what ten- 
dernefs he reproves, with what affe@tion he exhorts, and 
iy -with what vigour he preaches ; and it is all owing to 
this, becaufe he reproves, exhorts, and preaches to thofe 
_ -for whom he firft prays to God. This devotion foftens 
ie his heart, enlightens his mind, {weetens his tempery 


204 A SERIOUS CALL FO A 


* and makes every thing that comes from him, inftrudtivey, 


amiable and affeéting. At his firkt coming a 
_prifon, 


village, it was as difagreeable to him as a 
every day feemed too tedious to be endured in 


a place. He thought his parifh was too full of 
and mean people, that were none of them ft forthe cone 
verfation of a gentleman. 5 1 ee 
~ | This put him upon a clofe application: wsihia dada | 
He kept much at home, writ notes upon Homer and! — 
Plautus, and fometimes thought it hard to be called to 
pray by any poor body, when he was juit in the midit of — 
one of Homer’s battles. This was his polite, alte, or Tay 
rather fay, poor ignorant turn of mind, before ‘ 
had got the government of his heart. But now “his 
days are fo far from coy delice * 
great a retirement, that he now only wants * 
to do that variety of good which his eee 
The folitude of his little parifh is become n 
comfort to him, becaufe he hopes that God b a 
him and his flock there, to = Aardactineade 
He can now not only converfe with, but . 
and wait upon, the pooreft kind of people. | zor 
daily watching over the weak and infirm, 
felf to perverfe, rude, ignorant people wherever he a 
find them ; and is fo far from deliring to be confidered as” 
a gentleman, that he defires to be ufed as the’ ’ 
all ; and in the fpirit of his Lord and 
felf, and is glad to kneel down and» wath any of their” 
feet. He now thinks the pooreft creature in his parifh” 
good enough, and great enough, to deferve the hanes 
attendances, the kindeit friendfhips, the tendereft 
he can poffibly thew them. He is fo far now from 
wanting agreeable company, that he thinks there is no” 
better converfation in the world, than to be talking with 
poor and mean people about the kingdom of 
All thefe noble thoughts and divine fentiments 2 
effets of his great devotion ; he prefents” eve 
often before God in his prayers, that he never thinks he” 
ean eiteem, reverence, or ferve thofe enough; for whic 
he implores fo many mercies from God. 
Ouvraaius is mightily affe@ed with this paflage« 
feripture, the effeGual fervent prayer of a righteous 


‘ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 295°- 


availeth much, James v.16. This makes him praétife all 
the arts of holy living, and afpire after every inftance of 
piety and righteoufnefs, that his prayers for his flock 
may have their full force, and avail much with God. 
For this reafon he has fold a fmall eftate that he had, and 
has ereGted a charitable retirement for ancient, poor peo- 
ple to live in prayer and piety, that his prayers being 
affifted by fuch good works, may pierce the clouds, and 
bring down bleflings upon thofe fouls committed to his 
gare. 

Ouranius reads. how God himfelf faid unto Abimelech 
concerning Abraham, He is a prophet : he fhall pray for 
thee, and thou foalt live. Gen. xx. 7. And again, how 
he faid.of Job : And my fervant Job Jfhall pray for you s 
for him will I except, Job xii. 8. 

_ From thefe paflages, Ouranius juftly concludes, that 
the prayers of men eminent for holinefs of life, have an 
extraordinary power with God ; that he grants to other 
people fuch pardons, reliefs and bleflings, through their 
prayers, as would not be granted to men of lefs piety 
and perfeétion. _This makes Ouranius exceeding ftudious 
of Chriftian perfeGtion, fearching after every grace and 
holy ‘temper, purifying his heart all manner of ways, 
fearful of every error and defe& in his life, left his pray- 
ers for his flock fhould be lefs availing with God, 
through his own defeéts in holinefs. 

This makes him careful of every temper of his heart, 
gives alms of all that he hath, watch, and faft, and mor- 
tify, and live according to the ftrifeft rules of tem- 
perance, meeknefs and humility, that he may be in 
fome degree like an Abraham, or a Job, in his parifh, 
and make fuch prayers for them, as God will hear and 
accept. abe 
_ Thefe are the happy effets, which a devout intercef- 
fion hath produced in the life of Ouranius. And if oth- 
er people in their feveral ftations, were to imitate this 
‘example, in fuch a manner as fuited their particular 
"fate of life, they would certainly find the fame happy 
effects from it. ‘ 

_ If mafters, for inftance, were thus:to remember their 
ervants in their prayers, befeeching God to blefs them, 
and fuiting their petitions to the particular wants ané 


ee A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


neceffities of their fervants ; letting no’ da se 
out a full performance of thie? part of dev 3 mel 


efit would be as great to themfelves, as to theit fervants: 
No way fo likely as this, to infpire ‘them with a true 
fenfe of that power which they have in their hands, 
make them delight in doing good, and becoming = 
plary in all the parts of a wife and good matter. 
prefenting their fervants fo often before God, as equ 
related to God, and entitled to the fame expeCtatic 
of heaven, as themfelves, would naturally incline 
to treat them, not only with fuch bai etedone 
fellow -creatures, but with fuch tendernefs, care, and 
generofity, as became fellow-heirs of the fame glory - 
This devotion would make mafters inclined to” “every 
thing that was good towards their fervants ; be 
of their behaviour, and as ready to require of them an 
exa€t obfervance of the duties of Chriftianity, as of t 
duties of their fervants. This would teach them to'co 
fider their fervants as God’s fervant’s, to defire their pe 
feGtion, to do nothing before them hth 
their minds, to impofe no bufinefs upon them 
leffen their fenfe of religion, or hinder them from eir 
full fhare of devotion, both public and © This 
praying for them, would make them as glad ito’ fee their 
fervants eminent in piety a’ themfelves, "andl centile 
that they fhould have all the opportunities and encour. 
agements, both to know and perform all the duties of 
the -Chriftian life. How natural would it be for fuch"a 
mafter, to perform every part of family-devotion 
have conftant prayers; to excufe no one’s abfence fi 
them ; to have the feriptures, and books of piety, often 
read amongft his fervants; ‘to ‘take all op e 
inftruGing them, of raifing their minds to God, and teach- 
ing them todo all their bufinets, as a fervice to God, and 
upon the hopes and expeétations of another life ? How 
natural would it be for fuch a one to pity their weaknefs 
and ignorance, to bear with the dulnefs of 7 
ftandings, or the perverfenefs of their tempers; tot 
them with tendernefs, exhort them with 
hoping that God would hear his:prayers for 
impoffible would: it be for a matter; that thu 
ed with God for his fervants, to ufe any wi 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 297 


enings towards them, to damn and curfe them as dogs 
and fcoundrels, and treat them only as the dregs of the 
creation. This devotion would give them another {pirit, 
and make them confider how to make proper returns of 
care, kindnefs and proteGtion to thofe, who had fpent 
their ftrength and time in fervice and attendance upon 
them. 
~ Now 7f gentlemen think it fo low an employment for 
their ftate and dignity, to exercife fuch a devotion as 
this for their fervants, let them confider how far they 
are from the fpirit of Chrift, who made himfelf not ovly 
an interceffor, but a facrifice for the whole race of finful 
mankind. 
_ Leet them confider how miferable their greatnefs 
‘would be, if the Son of God fhould think it as much 
below him to pray for them, as they do to pray for their 
fellow-creatures. Let them confider how far they are 
from that fpirit, which prays for its moft unjuft ene- 
mies, if they have not kindnefs enough to pray for 
thofe, by whofe labours and fervice they live in eafe 
‘themfelves. 
_ Again ; if parents fhould thus make themfelves advo- 
ates and interceflors with God for their children, con- 
ftantly applying to heaven in behalf of them, nothing 
wwould be more likely, not only to blefs their children, 
but alfo to form and difpofe their own minds to the 
» performance of every thing that was excellent and praife- 
-worthy. I donot fuppofe, but that the generality of 
parents remember their children in their prayers, and 
call upon God to blefs them. But the thing here in- 
tended, is not a general remembrance of them, but a reg- 
ular method of recommending all their particular needs 
_and neceffities unto God ; and of praying for every fuch 
| particular grace and virtue for them, as their ftate and 
condition of life fhall feem to require. _ 
.. The ftate of parents is a holy ftate, in fome degree 
_ like that of the priefthood, and calls upon them to blefs 
their children with their prayers and facrifices to God. 
Thus it was that holy Job watched over, and bleffed his 
children, he /anétified them, he rofe-up early in the morning 
"and offered burnt-offerings, according to the number of them 
Wl, Job. i. 5. 


298 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


_ If parents therefore, .confidering _themfelves Hay 
light, fhould be daily calling upon Gothia iielaleron, itp 
liberate manner, altering and extending 1 rcef- 
fions, as the ftate and growth of their children required, 
fuch devotion would have a mighty influence upon the 
reft of their lives ; it would make them very circumfpe& 
in the government of themfelves ;*prudent and careful 
of every thing they faid or did, left their example fhould 
hinder that, which they fo conftantly defired in their 
prayers. If a father was daily making particular pray- 
ers to God, that he would pleafe to infpire his children 
with true piety, great humility, and ftrié temperan 
what could be more likely to make the father himfelf 
become exemplary in thefe virtues? How naturally 
would he grow afhamed of wanting fuch virtues, as he 
thought neceffary for his children ? So that his prayers 
for their piety, would be a certain means of | exalting his 
own to its greateft height. oh erin te sine 
If a father thus confidered hsnfellenge an interceflor 
with God for his children, to blefs them with his pray- 
ers, what more likely means to make him afpire 
every degree of holinefs that he might thereby be fitter 
to obtain bleffings from heaven for them ?-How would 
fuch thoughts make him avoid every thing that was fin- 
ful and difpleafing to God, left when he prayed for his 
children, God fhould reje&t his prayers ? How tender 
how religioufly, would fuch a father. converfe with | 
children, whom he confidered as his little fpiritu 
whofe virtues he was to form by his example; encouras 
by his authority, nourifh by his counfel, ‘Ed pofgen Oy 
his prayers to God for them ? oid Fee Al ag 
How fearful would he be of, all greedy and unjuft 
ways of raifing their fortune, of bringing them up in 
pride and indulgence, or of making fretdtoontond of 
the world, left he fhould thereby render them incapable 
of thofe graces which he was fo often ee sod 
to grant them. ig 
Thefe being the plain, natural, hidgiehe effedts 
interceffion, all parents, I hope, i have the real 
fare of their children at heart, who defire to be t 
friends and benefaétors. and to live’ amongtt the 
fpirit of wifdom and piety, will not ahaa fo 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 299 


means, both of raifing their own virtue, and doing an 
eternal good to thofe, who are fo near and dear to them, 
by the ftrongeft ties of nature. 
- Lafily, Vf all people, when they feel the firft approaches 
of refentment, envy, or contempt, towards others ; or if 
ia all little difagreements, and mifunderftandings what- 
ever, they fhould, inftead of indulging their minds with 
little low refle€tions, have recourfe at fuch times to a 
more particular and extraordinary interceffion with God, 
for fuch perfons as had raifed their envy, refentment, or 
difcontznt ; this would be a certain way to prevent the 
growth of all uncharitable tempers. If you was alfo to 
form your prayer, or interceffion at that time, to the 
degree of contrariety to that temper which you 
was then in, it would be an excellent means of raifing 
your heart to the greateft flate of perfeGtion. As for 
imflance : when at any time you find in your heart mo- 
tions of envy towards any perfon, whether on account 
of his riches, power, reputation, learning, or advance- 
ment, if you fhould immediately betake yourfelf at that 
time to your prayers, and pray to God to blefs and prof- 
per him m that very thing, which raifed your envy ; if 
you fhould exprefs and repeat your petitions in the ftrong- 
eit terms, befeeching God to grant him all the happinefs 
from the enjoyment of it, that can poflibly be received, 
you would foon find it to be the beft antidote in the 
world, to expel the venom of that poifonous paffion. 
‘This would be fuch a triumph over yourfelf, would fo 
humble and reduce your heart into obedience and order, 
that the devil would even be afraid of tempting you 
again in the fame manner, when he faw the temptation 
turned into fo great a means of amending and reforming 
the ftate of your heart. 


_ _ Again ; If in any little difference or mifunderftandings 


é 


_ that you happened to have at any time with a rela- 


tion, a neighbour, or any one elfe, you fhould thea pray 


_ for them in a more extraordinary manner, than you ever 


did before, befeeching God to give them every grace, 

and bleffing, and happinefs you can think of, you would 

taken the fpeedieft method that can be, of recon- 

ing all differences, and clearing up all miiunderitand- 

You would then think nothing too great to be 
Bb 


300 A SERIOUS CALL TO.A 


forgiven, ftay for no condefcenfions, need no meditation 
of a third perfon, but be glad to teftify your love and 
good will to him, who had fo high a place in your fe- 
cret prayers. This would be the mighty power of fuch 
Chriftian devotion ; it would remove all peevith paf- 
fions, foften your heart into the moft tender conde- 
{eenfions, and be the beft arbitrator of all differences 
that happened between you and any of your acquaint- 
ance. So ; 
The greateft refentments amongit friends and neigh- 
bours moft often arife from poor punétilio’s and little 
miftakes in conduét. A certain fign that their friendfhip 
is merely human, not founded upon religious confidera- 
tions, or fupported by fuch a courfe of mutual prayer 
for one another, as the firft Chriftians ufed. For fuch 
devotion muft neceffarily either deftroy fuch tempers, or - 
be itfelf deftroyed by them. You cannot poflibly have 
any ill temper, or fhew any unkind behaviour to a man 
for whofe welfare you are fo much concerned, as to be 
his advocate with God in private. 
Hence we may learn the odious nature and exceedin 
guilt of {pite, hatred, contempt, and angry paffions ; 
they are not to be confidered as defeéts in good nature 
and {weetnefs of temper, not as failings in civility of 
manners or good breeding, but as fuch bafe tempers, as 
are entirely inconfiftent with the charity of interceffion.’ 
You think it a fmall matter to be peevifh or ill-natured 
to fuch or fuch a man; but you fhould’ confider, whe- 
ther it be a {mall matter to do that, which you could 
not do, if you had but fo much charity as to be able to 
recommend him to God in your prayers. You think 
it a {mall matter to ridicule one man, and defpife ano- 
ther ; but you fhould confider, whether it be a fmall — 
matter to want that charity towards thefe people, which 
Chriftians are not allowed to want towards their moft 
inveterate enemies. For be but as charitable to thefe 
men, do but blefs and pray for them, as you are obliged 
to biefs and pray for your enemies, and then you will — 
find that you have charity enough, to make it impofli-_ 
ble for you to treat them with any degree of fcorn or 


contempt. For you cannot poflibly defpife and 


| 


| 


4 
Ng 
S 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. $01 


that man whom your private prayers recommend to the 
love and favour of God. 

» When you defpife and ridicule a man, it is with no 
other end but to make him ri@iculous and contemptible 
in the eyes of other men, and in order to prevent their 
efteem of him. How therefore can it be poffible for 
you fincerely to befeech God to blefs that man with the 
honour of his love and favour, whom you defire men to 
treat as worthy of their contempt ? 

Could you out of love toa neighbour, defire your 
prince to honour him with every mark of efteem and fa- 
vour, and yet at the fame time expofe him to the fcorn 
and derifion of your own fervants ? Yet this is as pof- 
fible, as to expofe that man to the fcorn and contempt of 
your fellow-creatures, whom you recommend to the fa- 
your of God in your fecret prayers. 

From thefe confiderations we may plainly difcover 
the reafonablenefs and juttice of this doétrine of the 
Gofpel, Whofoever fhall fay unto his brother, Racha, shall 


* be in danger of the council ; but whofoever fhall fay, Thou 


fool, foall be in danger of hell fire, Matt. v. 22. We are 
not, I fuppofe, to believe that every hafty word, or un-» 
reafonable expreflion that flips from us by chance, or 
furprife, and is contrary to our intention and tempers, 
is the great fin here fignified. But he that fays, Racha, 
or thou fool, muft chiefly mean him that allows himfelf 
in deliberate, defigned a€ts of {corn and contempt to- 
wards his brother, and in that temper fpeaks to him, and 
of him, in reproachful language. 

Now fince it appears, that thefe tempers are at the 
bottom the moft rank uncharitablenefs, fince no one can 


_ be guilty of them, but becaufe he has not charity enough 


to pray to God for his brother ; it cannot be thought 
hard or rigorous juftice, that fuch tempers fhould en- 
danger the falvation of Chriftians. For who would 
think it hard, that a Chriftian cannot obtain the favour 
of God for himfelf, unlefs he reverence and efteem his 


| : brother Chriftian, as one that bears the image of God, 
_-asone for whom Chrift died, as a member of Chrift’s 
__ body, as a member of that holy fociety on earth, which 
_ is in union with that triumphant church in heaven ? Yet 
4 all thefe confiderations muft be forgot, all thefe glorious 


y 
‘ 


- 


¥ 


302 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


privileges difregarded, before man can treat him that | 


has them, as an obje& of fcorn and contempt. So that 
to {eorn or defpife a brother, or, as our blefled Lord fays, 
< call him Racha or fool, muft be looked upon, as 
imongit the moft odious, unjuft, and guilty tempers, that 
ean be fupported in the heart of a Chriftian, and juftly 


excluding him from all his hopes in the falvation of Je- - 


fus Chrift. For to defpife one for whom Chrift died, is 

to be as contrary to Chrift, as he that defpifes any thing 

that Chrift has faid, or done. Pycaa 
If a Chriftian that had lived with the holy Virgin Ma- 


ry, fhould, after the death of our Lord, have taken any 


occafion to treat her with contempt, you would certain- 
ly fay, that he had loft his piety towards our blefled 
Lord. For a true reverence for Chrift mutt have forced 


him to treat her with refpe&, who was fo nearly related 


to him. by. debi areal 

I dare appeal to any man’s mind, whether it does not 
tell him, that this relation of the Virgin Mary to our 
bleffed Lord, muft have obliged all thofe that lived and 
converfed with her, to treat her with great refpe&t and 
efteem. Might not a man have juftly dreaded the ven- 
geance of God upon him, for any feorn and contempt 
that he had fhewn to her ? 

Now if this be plain and obvious reafoning, if a cone 


tempt offered to the Virgin Mary muft have been inter- 


preted a contempt of Chrift, becaufe of her near rela- 
tion to him ; then let the fame reafon fhew you the great 
impiety of defpifing any brother. You cannot deipife 
a brother, without defpifing him that ftands ina high re- 
lation to God, to his fon Jefus Chrift, and to the Holy 
Trinity. 
You would certainly think it a mighty impiety to treat 
a writing with great contempt, that had been written by 
the finger of God ; and can you think it a lefs impiety to 
’ contemn and villify a brother, who is not only the work- 
manfhip, but the image of God? You would juftly think 
it great profanenefs to contemn and trample upon an 


altar, becaufe it was appropriated to holy ufes, and had 


had the body of Chrift fo often placed upon it 5 and 
you fuppofe it to be lefs profanenefs tofcorn and t 


ple upon a brother, who fo belongs to God, that hisvery — 


be 
dv 


—— eo 
5 al Ee 


a 


iy 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 308 


body is to be confidered as the temple of the Holy Ghoft, 
1 Cor. vi. 15. ied 
“Had you defpifed and ill-treated the Virgin Mary, 


you had been chargeable with the impiety of defpifing 


her, of whom Chrift was born. And if you feorn and 
defpife a brother you are chargeable with the impiety of 
defpifing him, for whom Chrift laid down his life. And 
now if this fcornful temper is founded upon a difre- 


gard of all thefe relations, which every Chriftian bears 


to God, and Chrift, and the Holy Trinity, can you won- 
der, or think it hard, that a Chriftian who thus allows 
himfelf to defpife a brother fhould be in danger of hell 
fire ? 

Secondly, It muft here be obferved, that though in 
thefe words, whofoever hall fay, thou fool, &c. the 
great fin there contemned is an allowed temper of de- 
{pifing a brother ; yet we are alfo to believe, that all 
hafty expreffions, and words of contempt, though 
fpoken by furprife or accident, are by this text con- 
demned as great fins, and notorious breaches of Chrift- 
ian charity. | 

They proceed from great want of Chriftian love and 
meeknefs, and call for great repentance. ‘They are only 
little fins, when compared with habits and fettled tem- 
pers of treating a brother defpitefully, and fall as direét- 
ly under the condemnation of this text, as the groffeft 
habits of uncharitablenefs. And the reafon why we are 


“always to apprehend great guilt, and call ourfelves to a 


ftri& repentance for thefe hafty expreffions of anger and 
contempt, is this ; becaufe they feldom are what they 
feem to be, that is, mere ftarts of temper, that are occa- 
fioned purely by furprife or accident ; but are much 
more our own proper aéts, than we generally imagine. 

_ Aman fays a great many bitter things ; he prefently 
forgives himfelf, becaufe he fuppofes it was only the 
fuddeunefs of the occafion, or fomething accidental, that 
carried him fo far beyond himfelf. But he fhould con- 
fider, that perhaps the accident, or furprife, was not the 
occafion of his angry expreffions, but might only be the 
occafion of his angry temper fhewing itfelf. “Now as 
this is, generally fpeaking, the cafe, as all haughty, angry 
anguage generally proceeds from fome fecret habits of 

Bb2 


304 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


pride in the heart ; fo people that are fubje& to it, 
though only now and then as-accidents happen, have’ 
great reafon to repent of more than their prefent behav 
jour, to charge themfelves with greater guilt than acci-’ 

ental paflion, and to bring themfelves to fuch penance’ 
and mortification, as is proper to deftroy habits of a 
haughty fpirit. And this may be the reafon, why the 
text looks no farther than the outward language ; why 
it only fays ; whofoeyer fhall fay, thou fool ; becaufe’ 
few can proceed fo far, as to the accidental ufe of 
haughty, difdainful language, but they whofe hearts are’ 
more or lefs pofleff-d with habits and fettled tempers of 
pride and haughtinefs. 

‘ But to return »: interceffion is not only the belt arbi-. 
trator of ail differences, the beft promoter of true friend+ 
thip, the beft cure and prefervative againft all unkind 
tempers, all angry and haughty paffions, but is alfo of 
great ufe to difcover to us the true ftate of our own 
hearts. 

There are many tempers which we think lawful and 
innocent which we never fufpe& of any harm ; which, 
if they were to be tried by this devotion, would foon 
fhew us how we have deceived ourfelves. 

‘Sufurrus is a pious, temperate, good man, remarkable 
for abundance of excellent qualities. No one more con- 
ftant at the fervice of the church, or whofe heart ig 
more affeé&ted with it. His charity is fo great, that he 
almoft ftarves himfelf, to be able to give greater alms to 
the poor. Yet Sufurrus had a prodigious failing along 
with thefe great virtues. He had a mighty inclination 
to hear and difcover all the defects and infirmities of all 
about him. You was welcome to tell him any thing of 
any body, provided that you did not do it in the ftyle of 
anenemy. He never difliked an evil fpeaker, but when» 
his language was rough and paffionate. If you would but 
whifper any thing gently, though it was ever fo bad in 
itfelf, Sufurrus was ready to receive it. When he vifits, 
you generally hear him relating how forry he is for the” 
defeéts and failings of fuch a neighbour. He is always 

“letting you know how tender he 1s of the reputation 
his neighbour ; how loath to fay that which he is pets 


ithe. 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 305 


to fay ; and how gladly he would conceal it, if it could 
be concealed. 

~ Sufurrus had fuch a tender, compaffionate manner of 
gelating things the moft prejudicial to his neighbour; that 
he even feemed, both to himfelf and others, to be exer- 
cifing a Chriftian charity, at the.fame time that he was 
indulging a whifpering, evil {peaking temper. 

Sulurrus once whifpered toa particular friend in great 
fecrecy, fomething too bad to be {poke of publicly. He 
ended with faying, how glad he. was, that it had not 
yet took wind, and that he had fome hopes it might not 
be true, though the fufpicions were ftrong. His friend 
made him this reply : you fay, Sufurrus, that you are 

lad it has not yet taken wind : and that you have fome 
pes it may not prove true. Go home therefore to 
your clofet, and pray to God for this man, in fuch a 
manner, and with uch earneftnefs as you would pray for 
yourfelf on the like occafion. 

Befeech God to interpofe in his favour, to fave him 
from falfe accufers, and bring all thofe to fhame, who 
by uncharitable whifpers and fecret ftories, wound him 
like thofe that ftab in the dark. And when you have 
made this prayer, then you may, if you pleafe, go tell 
the fame fecret to fome other friend, that you have told 
to me. 

Sufurrus was exceedingly affeéted with this rebuke, 
and felt the force of it upon his confcience in as lively 
4 manner, as if he had feen the books opened at the day 
of judgment. All other arguments might have been re- 
fifted ; but it was impoffible for Sufurrus either to reje&t, 
or to follow this advice, without being equally felf-con- 
demned in the higheft degree. From that time to this, 
he has conftantly ufed himfelf to this method of inter- 
ceffion ; and his heart is fo entirely changed by it, that 
he can now no more privately whifper any thing to the 
prejudice of another, than he can openly pray to God to 
do people hurt. Whifperings and evil fpeakings now 

hurt his ears, like oaths and curfes ; and he has appoint+ 
ed one day in the week, to be a day of penance as long 
as he lives, to humble himfelf before God, in the forrow- 


ful confeffion of his former guilt. It may well be won- 
| : dered how a man of fo much piety as Sufurrus could 


re ree Ss 


* 


306. ~ A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


be fo long deceived in himfelf, as to live in fuch a ftaté 
of {candal and evil fpeaking, without fufpe@ting himfelf 
to be guilty of it. But it was the tendernefs and feem- 
ing compaffion with which he heard and related ‘every 
thing, that deceived both himfelf and others. This was 
a falfenefs of heart, which was only to be fully difcover- 
ed, by the true charity of interceffion. And if people 
of virtue, who think little harm of themfelves, as Sufur- 
rus did, were often to try their fpirit by fuch an inter- 
eeffion, they would often find themfelves to be fuch, as 
they leaft of all fufpe&ted. By ROE SE 

I have laid before you, the many and great advantages 
of interceflion. You have feen what a divine friendfhip 
it muft needs beget amongft Chriftians ; how dear it 
would render all relations and neighbours to one another ; 
how it tends to make clergymen, mafters, and parents, 
exemplary and perfeé in all the duties of their ftation ; 
how certainly it deftroys all envy, fpite, and ill natured 
paffions ; how fpeedily it reconciles all differences, and 
with what a piercing light it difcovers to a man the true 
ftate of his heart. 

Thefe confiderations will, I hope, perfuade you to 
make fuch interceflion as is proper for your ftate, the 
conftant, chief matter of your devotion at this hour of 
prayer. 


—_—_~f—_ 


CHAP. XXII. 


Recommending devotion at three o?clock, called in Scripture 
the ninth hour of the day. The fubje@ of prayer at this 
hour is refignation tothe divine pleafure. The nature 
and duty of conformity to the will of God_in all our 
attions and defigns. ay 


I HAVE recommended certain fubje€ts to be made 
the fixed and chief matter of your devotions, at all the 
hours of prayer that have been already confidered. As 
thank{giving, and oblation of yourfelf to God, at your 
firft prayers in the morning ; at nine, the great virtue of — 
Chriitian humility is to be the chief part of your pe 
at twelve, you are called upon to pray for all the; 


| a 
1% 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 307 


of univerfal love, and to raife it in your heart by fuch 
general and particular interceffions, as your own fate, 
and relation to other people, feem more particularly to 
uire of you. At this hour of the afternoon, you are 
defired to confider the neceffity of refignation and con- 
formity to the will of God, and to make this great virtue 
the principal matter of your prayers. 
_ There is nothing wife, or holy, or juft, but the great 
will of God. This is as ftriétly true in the moft rigid 
fenfe, ag to fay, that nothing is infinite and eternal but 
God. No beings therefore, whether in heaven or on 
earth, can be wife, or holy, or juft, but fo far as they con- 
form to this will of God. It.is conformity to this will, 
that gives virtue and perfeCtion to the higheft fervices 
_ ef angels in heaven 5 and it is conformity to the fame 
will that makes the ordinary a¢tions of men en earth be- 
gome an acceptable fervice unto God. 

The whole nature of virtue confifts in conforming, 
and the whole nature of vice in declining from the will 
of God. All God’s creatures are created to fulfil his 
will ; the,fun and moon obey his will, by the neceffity 
of their nature ; angels conform to his will by the per- 
feétion of their nature. If therefore you would fhew 
yourfelf not to be a rebel and apoftate from the order of 
the creation, you muft a& like beings both above and 
below you ; it mutt be the great defire of your foul, that 
God’s will may be done by you on earth, as it is done 
in heaven. It mutt be the fettled purpofe and intention 
of your heart, to will nothing, defign nothing, do noth- 
ing, but fo far as you have reafon to believe, that it is 
the will of God, that you fhould fo defire, defign, and 
do. It is as juft and neceffary to live in this flate of 
heart, to think thus of God and yourfelf, as to think that 
you have any dependance upon him. And it is as great 
a rebellion againft God, to think that your will may ever 
differ from his, as to think that you have not received the 
power of willing from him. You are therefore to con- 
fider yourfelf as a being, that has no other bufinefs in 
the world, but to be that which God requires you to be 5 


to have no tempers, no rules of your own, to feek no 


felf-defigns or {clf-ends, but to fill fome place, and ac 
fome part in fri conformity, and thankful refignation 


808 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


to the divine pleafure. To think that you are your ows, 
or at your own difpofal, is as abfurd as to think that you 
created, and can preferve yourfelf. It is as plain and 
neceflary a firft principle, to believe you are thus God’s, 
that you thus belong to him, and are to aé and fuffer . 
all in a thankful refignation to his pleafure, as to believe, 
that in him you live, and move, and have your being. 
Refignation to the divine will, fignifies a cheerful ap- 
probation and thankful acceptance of every thing that. 
comes from God. _ It is not enough patiently to fubmit, 
but we muft thankfully receive, and fully approve o 
every thing, that by the order of God’s providence hap- 
pens tous, For there is no reafon why we fhould be 
patient, but what is as good and ftrong a reafon why we 
fhould be thankful. If we were under the hands of a 
wife and good phyfician, that could not miftake, or do 
any thing to us, but what certainly tended to our bene- 
fit ; it would not be enough to be patient, and abitain. 
from murmuring againft fuch a phyfician ; but it would. 
be as great a breach of duty and gratitude to him, n nf. 
to be pleafed and thankful for what he did, as it woul 
be to murmur at him. Now this is our true ftate with 
relation to God ; we cannot be faid fo much as to be- 
lieve in him, wale we believe him to be of infinite wif 
dom. Every argument therefore for patience under his. 
difpofal of us, is as ftrong an argument for approbation — 
and thank fulnefs for every thing that he doesto us. And 
there needs no more to difpofe us to this gratitude co 
wards God, than a full belief in him, that he is this be- 
ing of infinite wifdom, love, and goodnefs. Do but af 
fent to this truth, in the fame manner as you affent to 
things of which you have no doubt, and then you will _ 
cheerfully approve of every thing, that God has already 
approved for you. For as you cannot poflibly be pleafed _ 
with the behaviour of any perfon towards you, but Lea 
caufe it is for your good, is wife in itfelf, and the é 
of his love and goodnefs towards you ; fo when you 
fatisfied that God does not only do that which is wile 
and good, and kind, but that which is the effeét of 3 a 
infinite wifdom and love in the care of you ; it will 
as neceflary, whilft you have this faith, to be thank 
and be pleafed with every thing which God chooles 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 309, 


you, as to wifh your own happinefs. Whenever there- 
fore you find yourfelf difpofed to uneafinefs, or mur- 
muring at any thing, that is the effect of God’s provi- 
dence over you, you mutt look upon yourfelf as denying 
either-the wifdom or goodnefs of God. For every com- 
plaint neceflarily fuppofes this. You would never com- 
plain of your neighbour, but that you fuppofe you can 
fhow either his unwife, unjuft, or unkind behaviour to- 
wards you. Now every murmuring, impatient reflec- 
tion under the providence of God, is the fame accufa- 
tion of God. A complaint always fuppofes ill ufage. 
Hence alfo you may fee the great neceflity and piety 
of this thankful ftate of heart, becaufe the want of it 
implies an accufation of God’s want either of wifdom, 
or goodnefs, in his difpofal of us. It is not therefore any 
_ high degree of perfection, founded in any uncommon 
nicety of thinking, or refined notions, but a plain prin- 
ciple, founded in this plain belief, that God is a being of. 
_ infinite wifdom and goodrefs. Now this refignation to 
__ the divine will, may be confidered in two refpects ; Firft, 
_ As it fignifies a thankful approbation of God’s general 
providence over the world: Secondly, As it fignifies a 
thankful acceptance of his particular providence over us. 
Firft, Every man is by the law of his creation, by the 
firft article of his creed, obliged to confent to, and ac- 
knowledge the wifdom and goodnefs of God, in his gen- 
eral providence over the whole world. He is to be- 
lieve that it is the effect of God’s great wifdom and good- 
nefs, that the world itfelf was formed at fuch a particular 
time, and in fuch a manner. That the general order of 
nature, the whole frame of things, is contrived and form- 
ed in the beft manner. He is to believe that God's 
providence over ftates and kingdoms, times and feafons, 
is all for the beft. That the revolutions of ftate, and 
changes of empire, the rife and fall of monarchies, per- 
fecutions, wars, famines and plagues, are all permitted, 
and conduéted by God’s providence, to the general good 
__ of man in this ftate of trial. A good man is to belicve 
all this, with the fame fulnefs of affent, as he believes 
_ that God is in every place, though he neither fees, nor 
4 comprehend the manner of his prefence. This isa 


i 


~ 


OOO Sl a | ts sa) 2 ee 
. 


310 A SERIOUS CALL TO A» 


noble magnificence of thought, a true religious greatnefs 
of mind, to be thus affe&ted with God’s general provi- 
dence, admiring and magnifying his wifdom in all things ; 
never murmuring at the courfe of the world, or the ftate 
of things, but looking upon all around, at heaven and 
earth, as a pleafed {pe€tator ; and adorning that invifible 
hand, which gives laws to all motions, and overrules all 
events to ends fuitable to the higheft wifdom and good- 
nefs. ; 
. It is very common for people to allow themfelves great 
liberty in finding fault with fuch things, as have only 
God for their caufe. Every one thinks he may juitly 
fay, what a wretched, abominable climate he lives in: 
This man is frequently telling you, what a difmal, curfs 
ed day it is, and what intolerable feafons we have. Ans 
other thinks he has very little to thank God for, that 
it is hardly worth his while to live in a world fo full of 
changes and revolutions. But thefe are tempers of great 
impiety, and fhew that religion has not yet its feat m 
the heart of thofe that have them. It founds indeed 
much better to murmur at the courfe of the world, 
or the ftate of things, than to murmur at Providence : 
to complain of the feafons and weather, than to coms 
plain of God ; but if thefe have no other caufe but God 
and his providence, it is a poor diftinGtion to fay, that 
you are only angry at the things, but not at the caufe 
and direétor of them. 1 fais 
How facred the whole frame of the world is, how all 
things are to be confidered as God’s and referred to him, 
is fully taught by our bleffed Lord in the cafe of oaths ¢ 
But I fay unto you, Swear not at all ; neither by heaveny 
for it is God’s throne ; nor by the earth, for it is his footftool 5 
neither by Jerufalem, for it is the city of the great King 5 
neither foalt thou {wear by thy head, becaufed thou canft not 
make one hair white or black ; Matt. v. 37. that is, becaufe 
the whitenefs or blacknefs of thy hair is not thine, but 
God’s. ‘i a 
Here you fee all things in the whole order of natures 
from the higheft heavens to the {malleft hair, are always 
to be confidered, not feparately as the are in themfe i 
but as in fome relationto God. And if this be goc 
foning, thou fhalt not {wear by the earth, a city, or 


_ DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. Sil 


hair, becaufe thefe things are God’s, and in a certain 
manner belong to him ; is it not exaétly the fame rea- 
foning to fay, thou fhalt not murmur at the feafons of 
the earth, the ftates of cities, and the change of times, 
becanife all thefe things are in the hands of God, have 
him for their author, are direfted and governed by him, 
to fuch ends, as are moft fuitable to his wife providence ? 
If you think you can murmur at the ftate of things 
without murmuring at Providence, or complain of fea- 
fons without complaining of God ; hear what our blefled 
* Lord fays farther upon oaths ; Whofo ball fwear by the 
altar, fweareth by it, and by all things thereon: and whofo 
Jeall fwear by the temple, fweareth by him that dwelleth 
therein : and he that fhull fwear by heaven, fweareth by the 
throne of God, and by him that fiiteth thereon, Matt. xxiii. 
20. Now does not this Scripture plainly oblige us to 
teafon after this manner : Whofo murmurs at the courfe 
of the world, murmurs at God that governs the courfe 
of the world. Whofo repines at feafons and weather, 
and {peaks impatiently of times and events, 1epines avd 
fpeaketh impatiently of God, who is the“fole Lord aud 
Governor of times, feafons and events. As therefore 
when we think of God himfelf, we are to have no feuti- 
ments but of praife and thankfgiving ; fo when we look 
at thofe things which are under the dire€tion of God, 
and governed by his Providence, we are to receive them 
with the fame tempers of praife and gratitude. And 
though we are not to think all things right, and juft, and’ 
lawful, which the providence of God permits ; for then 
nothing could be unjuft, becaufe nothing is without his 
permiffion ; yet we muft adore God in the greateft pub- 
lic calamities, the moft grievous perfecutions, as things 
that are fuffered by God, like plagues and famiues, for 
ends fuitable to his wifdom and glory in the government 
- of the world. 
There is nothing more fuitable to the piety of a reae 
' fonable creature, or the fpirit of a Chriftian, than thus 
_ to approve, admire, and glorify God in all the ats of 
his general providence : confidering the whole world as 
his particular family, and all events as direGted by his 
wildom. ; 
Every one feems to confent to this, as an unden‘able 
= Cc 


ee 


312 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 


truth, That all things muff be as God pleafes ; and is not 
this enough to make every man pleafed with them him- 
felf ? And how can a man be a peevifh complainer of any 
thing that is the effeét of providence but by fhewing that 
his own felf-will and felf-wifdom is of more weight with 
him, than the will and wifdom of God? And what ean 
religion be faid to have done for a man, whofe heart is 
in this ftate ? 

For if he cannot thank and praife God, as well in ca. 
lamities and fufferings, as in profperity and happinefs, 
he is as far from the piety-of a Chriftian, as he that on 
loves them that love him, is from the charity of a Chrift- - 
jax. For to thank God only for fuch things as you like, 
is no more a proper act of piety, than to believe only 
what you fee, is an aét of faith. 

Refignation and thank{giving to God are only a&ts of 
piety, when they are atts of faith, truft, and confidence 
in the divine goodnefs. The faith of Abraham was an 
act of true piety, becaufe it flopped at no difficulties, 
was not altered or leffened by any human appearances. 
It firft of all carried him, againft all fhew of happinefs, 
from his own kindred and country, into a ftrange land, 
not knowing whither he went. It afterwards made him 
againft all appearance of nature, when his body was dead, 
when he was about an hundred years old, depend upon 
promife of God being fully perfuaded that what God had 
promifed, he was able to perform. t was this fame faith, 
that againft fo many pleas of nature, fo many appear- 
ances of reafon, prevailed upon him to offér up [faac-—— 
accounting that God was able to raife him up from the dead. 
Heb. xi. 17, 19. Now this faith is the true pattern of 
Chriftian refignation to the divine pleafure ; you are to 
thank and praife God, not only for things agreeable to 
you, that have the appearance of happinefs and comfort ; 
but when you are, like Abraham, called from all appear- 
ance of comfort, to be a pilgrim ina ftrange land, to 
part with an only fon ; being as fully perfuaded of the 
divine goodnefs in all things that happen to you, as 
Abraham was of the divine promife, when there w s the 
leaft appearance of its being performed. «ee 

This is true Chriftian refignation to God, which re- 
quires no more to the fupport of it, than fuch @plam af- 


Yad 


-DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 313 


furance of the goodnefs of God, as Abraham had of his 
veracity. And if you afk yourfelf, what greater reafon 
Abraham had to depend upon the divine veracity, than 
you have to depend upon the divine goodnefs, you will 
find that none can be given. You cannot therefore look 
upon this as an unneceffary, high pitch of perfec- 
tion,-fince the want of it implics the want, not of any 
high notions, but of a plain and ordinary faith in the 
moft certain doétrines both of natural and revealed re- 
ligion. 

Thus much concerning refignation to the divine will, 
as it fignifies a thankful approbation of God’s general 
providence ; it is now to be confidered, as it fignifies 
a thankful acceptance of God’s particular providence 
over us. 

Every man is to confider himfelf as a particular object 
of God’s providence ; under the fame care and protection 
of God, as if the world had been made for him alone. 
It is not by chance that any man is born at fuch atime, 
of fuch parents, and in fuch place and condition. It is 
as certain, that every foul comes into the body at fuch a 
time, and in fuch circumftances, by the exprefs defign- 
ment of God, according to fome purpofes of his will, and 

- for fome particular ends ; this is as certain, as that it is 
by the exprefs defignment of God, that fome beings 
are angels and others are men. It is as much by the 
-counfel and eternal purpofe of God, that you fhould be 
born in your particular ftate, and that Ifaac fhould be 
the fon of Abraham, as that Gabriel fhould be an angel, 
and Ifaac aman. The fcripture affures us, that it was by 
divine appointment, that our bleffed Saviour was born at 

Bethlehem, and at fuch atime. Now although it was 
owing to the dignity of his perfon and the great import- 
ance of his birth, that thus much of the divine counfel 
was declared to the world concerning the time and man- 
ner of it ; yet we are as fure from the fame fcriptures, 
that the time and manner of every man’s coming into 

the world, is according to fome eternal purpofes and di- 

_ geGtion of divine providence, and in fuch time and 

_ place, and circumftances, as are direéted and governed 

by God for particular ends of his wifdom and goodnefs. 

This we are as certain of from plain revelation, as we 


314 A SERIOUS CALL TO A_ 1 


can be of any thing. For if we are told, that not” 
Sparrow falleth to the ground without our heavenly Father 3 
can any thing more ftrongly teach us, that much greater 
beings, fuch as human fouls, come not into the world 
without the care aud dire€&tion of our heavenly Father ? 
If it is faid, the very hairs of your head are all numbered 3 
is it not to teach us, that nothing, not the fmalleft 
things imaginable, happen to us by chance ? But if the 
{malleft things we can conceive, are declared to be under 
the divine dire€tion, need we, or can we be more plainly 
taught, that the greateft things of life, fuch as the man- 
ner of our coming into the world, our parents, the time, 
and other circumftances of our birth and condition, are 
all according to the eternal purpofes, dire€tion and ap- 
pointment of divine providence ? a 
When the difciples put this queftion to our bleffed 
Lord, concerning the blind man, faying, Maffer, who did 
Jin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind ? He 
that was the eternal wifdom of God made this anfwer, 
Neither hath this man finned, nor his parents ; but that the 
works of God fhould be made manifeft in him, John ix. 2, 3. 
Plainly declaring, that the particular circumftances of 
every man’s birth, the body that he receives, and thecon- 
dition and ftate of life into which he is born, are appoint- 
ed by a fecret providence, which direéts all things to their 
particular times and feafons, and manner of exiltence, 
that the wifdom and works of God may be made mani- 
feft in them all. As therefore it is thus certain, that we 
are what we are, as to birth, time, and condition of en- 
tering into the world ; fince all that is particular in our” 
ftate, is the effe&t of God’s particular providence over ~ 
us, and intended for fome particular ends both of his 
glery, and our own happinefs, we are, by the greateft 
obligations of gratitude called upon to conform and re~ — 
fign our will to the will of God in all thefe refpeéts ;— 
thankfully approving and accepting every thing that is 
particular in our ftate. Praifing and glorifying his name 
for our birth of fuch parents, and in fuch cireumftances 
of ftate and condition ; being fully affured, that it was — 
for fome reafons of infinite wifdom and goodnefs, tha 
we were fo born into fuch particular ftates of life. 
the man abevementianed, was born blind, that 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 315 


works of God might be manifefted in him, had he not 
great reafon to praife God, for appointing him in fuch 
‘a parti manner, to be the inftrument of his glory ? 
And if one perfon is bora here, and another there ; if 
one falls amongft riches, and another into poverty ; if 
one receives his fiefh and blood from thefe parents, and 
another from thofe, for as particular ends, as the man was 
born blind ; have not all people the greateit reafon to 
blefs God, and to be thankful for their particular fate 
and condition, becaufe all that is particular m it, is as 
dire@tly, intended for the glory of God, and their own 
good, asthe particular blindnefs of that man, who was fo 
born, thatthe works of God might be manifefted im him? 
How noble an idea does this give us of the divine om- 
nifcience prefiding over the whole world, and governing 
foch a long chain and combination of feeming accidents 
and chances, to the common and particular advantages 
of all beings ? So that all perfons, in fuch 2 wonderful 
| variety of caufes, accidents and events, fhould all fall 
into fuch particular ftates, as were forefeen, and fore- 
ordained to their beft advantage, and fo as to be tmoft 
_ ferviceable to the wife and glorious ends of God’s gov- 
_ ernment of all the world. 
¢ Had yon been any thing elfe than what you are, you 
had, all things confidered, been lefs wifely provided for 
than you are now ; you had wanted fome circumfiances 
and conditions, that are beft fitted to make you happy 
yourfelf, and ferviceable to the glory of God. Could you 
fee.all that which God fees, all that happy chain of caufes 
_ and motives which are to move and invite you to a mght 
’ courfe of life, you would fee fomething to make you like 
that flate you are in, as fitter for you than any other. 
But as you cannot fee this, fo it is here that your Chnit- 
_ ian faith and truft in God, is to exercife itfelf, and ren- 
der you.as grateful and thankful for the happinefs of 
your ftate, as if you faw every thing that contributes to 
it. with your own eyes. But now if this is the cafe of 
5 man in the world, thus blefied with fome particu- 
Tar ftate that is mof convenient for him, how reafonable 
is it for every man to will that which God has already ~ 
‘willed for bim ? And by a pious faith and trufkan the 
‘ €e2 


Seer ay 


yd 


316 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


wife providence, which he is fure has made the beft 
choice for him of thofe things, which he could not choofes 
for himfelf. 

Every uneafinefs at our own ftate, is faite’ upon 
comparing it with that of other people. . Which is full as 
unreafonable, as if a man in a dropfy fhould be angry at 
thofe that prefcribe different things to him, from thofe™ 
which are prefcribed to people in-health. For all the dif- 
ferent ftates of life are like the different ftates of difeafes, — 
what is a remedy to one man in his ftate, may be poifon 
to another. So that to murmur becaufe you are not as” 
fome others are, is as if a man in one difeafe fhould mur-— 
mur that he is not treated ke him that is in another, 
Whereas if he was to have his will, he would be killed 
by that, which will prove the cure of another. It is juft 
thus in the various canditions of life ; if you give yourfelf 
up to uneafinefs, or complain at any thing in your ftate, 
you may, for aught you know, be fo ungrateful to God, 
as to murmur at that very thing, which is to prove the 
caufe of your falvation. Fad you it in your power to get 
that’ which you think it fo grievous to want, it might 
perhaps be that very thing, which of all others would 
moft expofe you to eternal damnation. So that whether 
we confider the infinite goodnefs of God, that cannot 
choofe amifs for us, or our own great ignorance of what 
is moft adv antageous to us, there can be nothing fo rea- 
fonable and pious, as to have no will but that of God’s, 
and defire nothing for ourfelves, in our perfons, our 
ftate, and condition, but that which the good providence 
of God appoints us. Farther, as the good providence 
of God thus introduces us into the world, into fuch 
ftates and conditions of life, as are moft convenient for 
us, fo the fame unerring wifdom orders all events; 
and changes in the whole courfe of our lives, infucha 
manner, as to render them the fitteft means to exercife q 
and improve our virtue. Nothing hurts us, not 
deftroys us, but the ill ufe of that liberty, with w 
God has entrifted us. i 

We are as fure that nothing happens'to us by hdl + 
as that the world itfelf was not made — 
as certain that all things happen and work tog 
our good, as that God is goodnefs itfelf,, (So thataman | 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 517 


has as much reafon to will every thing that happens to 
him, becaufe God wills it, as to think that is wifeft, 
which is dire&ted by infinite wifdom. This is not cheat- 
ing or foothing ourfelves into any falfe content, or im- 
‘aginary happinefs ; but is a fatisfaGtion grounded upon 
as great acertainty, as the being and attributes of God. 
For if we are right in believing God to att over us with 
infinite wifdom and goodnefs, we cannot carry our no- 
tions, conformity and refignation to the divine will too 
high ; nor can we ever be deceived, by thinking that to 
be beft for us, which God has brought upon us. 
For the providence of God is not more concerned in the 
government of night and day, and the variety of feafons, 
- than in the common courfe of events, that feem moft to 
depend upon the mere wills of men. So that it is as 
firiGly right, to look upon all worldly accidents and 
changes, all the various turns and alterations in your 
own life, to be as truly the effects of Divine Providence, 
__as the rifing and fetting of the fun, or the alterations of 
_ the feafons of the year. As you are therefore always to 
adore the wifdom of God in the direétion of thefe things; 
fo it is the fame reafonable duty, always to magnify God, 
as an equal direétor of every thing that happens to you 
in the courfe of your own life. This holy refignation 
and conformity of your will to the will of God, being fo 
much the true ftate of piety, I hope you will think it 
proper to make this hour of prayer, a conftant feafon of 
applying to God for fo great a gift. That by thus con- 
 ftantly praying for it, your heart may be habitually dif- 
_ pofed towards it, and always in a fiate of . readinefs to 
- Jook at every thing as God’s, and to confider him in 
every thing ; that foevery thing that befalls you, may be 
received in the fpirit of piety, and made a means of exer- 
cifing fome virtue. 
_ There is nothing that fo powerfully governs the heart, 
that fo ftrongly excites us to wife and reafonable a€tions, ~~ 
as a true fenfe of God’s prefence. 
But as we cannot fee, or apprehend the effence of 


_ God, fo nothing will fo conftantly keep us under a lively 


7 


feufe of the prefence of God, a» this holy refignation,  . 


which attributes every thing to him, and receives every , 


thing asfrom him, 


318 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


Could we fee a miracle from God, how would our 
thoughts be affected with an holy awe and veneration of 
his prefence !_ But if we confider every thing as God’s 
doing, either by order or permiffion, we fhall then be 
affe€ted with common things, as they would be who faw 
a miracle. For as there is nothing to affe& you ina 
miracle, but as it is the a€tion of God, and befpeaks his 
prefence ; fo when you confider God, as aéting in all — 
things, and all events, then all things will become vener- 
able to you, like miracles, and fill you with the fame 
awful fentiments of the divine prefence. Now you muft 
not referve the exercife of this pious temper, to any 
particular times or occafions, or fancy how refigned you 
will be to God, if fuch or fuch trials fhould happen. _— 
For this is amufing yourfelf with the notion or idea of | 
refignation inftead of the virtue itfelf. Do not therefore 
pleafe yourfelf with thinking how pioufly you would 
aét and fubmit to God, in a plague, a famine, or pers. 
fecution ; but be ‘intent upon the perfeétion of the 
prefent day ; and be affured, that the beft way of thews , 
ing a true zeal, is to make little things the occafions of - 
great piety. us 

Begin therefore in the fmalleft matters, and moft or-— 
dinary occafions, and accuitom your mind to the daily — 
exercife of this pious temper, in the loweft occurrences — 
of life. And when a contempt, an affront, a little ins — 
jury, lofs, or difappointment, or the {malleft events of _ 
every day, continually raife your mind to God in proper — 
ais of refignatiou, then you may juftly hope, that you — 
fhall be numbered amongft thofe that are refigned and — 
thankful to Ged in the greateft trials and affliftions. 

sisted 


Ate y 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 218 


CHAP. XXIII. 


Of evening prayer. Of the nature and neceffity of examina- 

tion. How we are to be particular in the confeffion of 

| “all our fins. How we are to fill our minds with a juft 
__ Borror and dread of all fin. 


IT AM now come to fix o’clock in the evening, 
_ which, according to the fcripture account, is called the 
twelfth, or laft hour of the day. This is a time fo 
_ proper for devotion, that I fuppofe nothing need be faid 
to recommend it as a feafon of prayer, to all people that 
profefs any regard to piety. As the labour and aétion 
of every itate of life is generally over at this hour, fo 
this is the proper time for every one to call himfelf to 
“account, and review all his behaviour, from the firft ac- 
tion of the day. The neceffity of this examination, is 
founded upon the neceffity of repentance. For if it be 
_neceffary to repent of all our fins, if the guilt of unre- 

_pented fins ftill continue upon us, then it is neceflary 

‘Rot only that our fins, but the particular circumftances 

“and aggravations of them, be known and recolle&ted, and 
brought to repentance. The {cripture faith, [f we con- 
S fs cur fins, he is faithful and juft to forgive us our sys 
and to cleanfe us from all unrighteoufnefs, 1 John, i. 9 
Which is as much as to fay, that then only our fins'are 
_ forgiven, and we cleanfed from the guilt and unright- 
 eoufnefs of them, when they are thus confeffed and re- 
i of. 

There feems hdrehbed to be the greateft neceffity, that 

all our daily a€tions be conftantly obferved, and brought 

account, left by a negligence, we load ourfelves with 

e guilt of unrepented fins. ‘This examination therefore 

f ourfelves every evening, is not only to be confidered as 

commendable rule, and fit for a wife man to obferve ; 

ut as fomething that is as neceffary as a daily confeffion 

id repentance of our fins ; becaufe this daily repentance 


320 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ~ 4 
is of very little fignificancy, and lofes all its chief bene- 
fit, unlefs it be a particular confeffion and repentance of — 
the fins of that day. This examination is neceflary to — 
repentance in the fame manner as time is neceflary 5 
you cannot repent or exprefs your forrow, unlefs you 
allow fome time for it : nor can you repent, but fo far 
as you know what it is that you are repenting of. So - 
that when it is faid, that it is neceflary to examine and — 
call your a€tions to account ; it is only faying, that it 
is neceflary to know what, and how many things you 
are to repent of. vo om 
You perhaps have hitherto only ufed yourfelf to con- 
fefs yourfelf a finner in general, and afked forgivenefs in 
the grofs, without any particular remembrance, or con- 
trition for the particular fins of that day. And by this 
practice you are brought to believe, that the fame fhort, 
general form of confeffion of fin in general, is a fufficient 
yepentance for every day. Suppofe another perfon 
fhould hold that a confeffion of our fins in general once, 
at the end of every week was fufficient ; and that it was 
as well to confefs the fins of feven days altogether, as to 
have a particular repentance at the end of every day. 

-I know you fufficiently fee the unreafonablenefs and 
impiety of this opinion, and that you think it is eafy 
enough to fhew the danger and folly of it. Yet you can- 
not bring one argumeut againft fuch an opinion, but 
what will be as good an argument againft fuch a daily 
repentance, as does not call the particular fins of that 
day to a ftrit account. For as you can bring no exprefs 
text of feripture againft fuch an opinion, but muft take 
all your arguments from the nature of repentance, and 
the neceffity of a particular repentance for particular 
fins ; fo every argument of that kind muft as fully prove 
the neceffity of being very particular in our repentance 
of the fins of every day. Since nothing can be juitly — 
faid againft leaving the fins of the whole week to be re- 
pented for in the grofs, but what may as juitly be faid 
againft a daily repentance, which confiders the fins of 
that day only in the grofs. ce 

Would you tell fuch a man, that a daily ¢ 
was neceflary to keep up an abhorrence of fin, eg: 3 
mind would grow hardened and fenfelefs of the guil 


c 
0] 
4a 


aA 


“DEVOVT AND HOLY LIFE. 321 


fin without it? And is not this as good a reafon for re- 
quiring that your daily repentance be very exprefs and 
particular for your daily fins? For if confeffion is to 
raife an abhorrence of fin, furely that confeffion which 
confiders and lays open your particular fins, that brings 
them to light with all their circumftances and aggrava- 
tions, that requires a particular forrowful acknowledg- 
ment of every fin, muft in a much greater degree fill the 
mind with an abhorrence of fin, than that which only in 
one and the fame form of words, confeffes you only to 
be a finner in general. For as this is nothing but what 
the greateft famt may juftly fay of himfelf, fo the daily 
repeating of only fuch a confeffion, has nothing in it to 
make you truly afhamed of your own way of life. 
Again: Maft you not tell fuch a man, that by leaving 
himfelf to fuch a weekly, general confeffion, he would 
be in great danger of forgetting a great many of his fins ? 
But is there any fenfe or force in this argument, unlefs 
you fuppofe that our fins are all to be remembered, and 
» brought to a particular repentance ? And is it not as ne- 
ceflary, that our particular fins be not forgotten, but par- 
ticularly remembered in your daily, as in a repentance at 
any other time ? So that every argument for a daily con- 
. feffion and repentance, is the fame argument for the con- 
| feffion and repentance of the particular fins of every day. 
. Becaufe daily confeffion has no other reafon or neceflity, 
but our-daily fins ; and therefore is nothing of what it 
- fhould be, but fo far as it is repentance and forrowful 
- acknowledgment of the fins of the day. 
- You would, I fuppofe, think yourfelf chargeable with 
_ great impiety, if you was to go to bed without confeffing 
_. yourfelf to be a finner, and afking pardon of God ; you 
would not think it fufficient that you did fo yefterday, 
and yet if without any regard to the prefent day, you 
_ only repeat the fame form of words that you ufed yefter- 
~ day, the fins of the prefent may juftly be looked upon to 
_ have had no repentance. For if the fins of the prefent 
_ day require a new confeffion, it muft be fuch a new 
_ confeffion as is proper to itfelf. For it is the flate and 
‘Condition of every day, that is to determine the ftate and 
“manner of your repentance in the evening ; otherwife 
the fame general form of words is rather an empty for- 


4 


$22 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


mality, that has the appearance of a duty ; than fuch a 
true performance of it, as is neceflary to make it truly 
ufeful to you. 

Let it be fuppofed, that on a certain day you have been 
guilty of thefe fins ; that you have told a vain lie upon 
yourfelf, afcribing fomething falfely to yourfelf through 
pride ; that you have been guilty of detra€tion, and in- 
dulged yourfelf in fome degree of intemperance. Let it 
be fuppofed, that on the next day you have lived in a 
contrary manner ; that you have negleéted no duty of 
devotion, and been the reft of the day innocently em- 
ployed in your proper bufinefs. Let it be fuppofed, that 
on the evening of both thefe days you only ufe the fame 
coufeffion in general, confidering it rather as a duty that 
is to be performed every night, than as a repentance 


that is to be fuited to the particular ftate of the day. Can 


it with any reafon be faid, that each day has had its pro- 
per repentance ? Is it not as good fenfe to fay, there is no 
difference in the.guilt of thefe days, as to fay that there 
need be no different repeutance at the end of them? Or 
how can each of them have its proper repentance, but by 
its having a repentance as large and extenfive, and par- 
ticular, as the guilt of each day ? 

Again: Let it be fuppofed, that in that day, when 
you had been guilty of the three notorious fins above- 
mentioned, that in your evening repentance, you had 
only called one of them to mind: Is it not plain, that 


the other two are unrepented of, and that therefore their 


guilt ftill abides upon you? So that you are then in the 
flate of him who commits himfelf to the night without 
the repentance for fuch a day, asshad betrayed him into 
two fuch great fins. Now thefe are not needlefs partic- 
ulars, or fuch {crupulous niceties, as a man need not 
trouble himfelf about ; but are fuch plain truths, as ef- 
fentially concern the very life of piety. For if repent- 
ance is neceflary, it is full as neceflary that it might be 
rightly performed, and in due manner. And I have en- 
tered into all thefe particulars, only to fhew yoifin the 


plaineft manner, that examination, and a careful. review ~ 


of all the ations of the day, is not only to be looked i 


upo as a good rule, but as fomething as neceflary as. 
ia kes, 


‘pentance itfelf, 


i 
fe 


: 


: 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. rs) 


, If a man is to account for his expenfes at night, can 
it be thought a needlefs exa€inefs in him, to take notice 


-of every particular expenfe in the day ? And if a man is 


to repent of his fins at night, can it be thought too great 
a piece of {erupulofity in him, to know and call to _ 
what fins he is to repent of ? 

Farther : Though it fhould be granted, that a con- 
feffion in general be a fufficient repentance for the end 
of fuch days, as have only the unavoidable frailties of 
our nature to Jament ; yet even this fully proves the 
abfolute neceffity of this felf-examination : for without 
this examination, who can know that he has gone through 
any day in this manner ? 

Again : An evening repentance, which thus brings 
all the aétions of the day to account, is not only necef- 
fary to wipe off the guilt-of fin, but is alfo the moft cer- 
tain way to amend and perfe& our lives. ~ For it is only 
fuch a repentance as this, that touches the heart, awak- 
ens the conf{cience, and leaves an horror and deteftation 
ef fin upon the mind. For inftance : if it fhould hap- 
pen that upon any particular evening, all that you could 
charge yourfelf with fhould be this, viz. a hafty, negli- 
gent performance of your devotions, or too much time 
fpent in an impertinent converfation ; if the unreafon-~ 


ablenefs of thefe things were fully refleted upon, and 


acknowledged ; if you was then to condemn yourfelf 
before God for them, and implore his pardon and affift- 
ing grace, what could be fo likely a means to prevent 
your falling into the fame faults the next day ? Or if 
you fhould fall into them again the next day ; yet if 
they were again brought to the fame examination and 
condemnation in the prefence of God, their happening 
again would be fuch a proof to you of your own folly 


and weaknefs, would caufe fuch a pain and remorfe in’ 


your mind, and fill you with fuch fhame and confufion 


‘at yourfelf, as would in all probability make you exceed- 


ingly defirous of greater perfection. 

- Now in the cafe of repeated fins, this would be the 
certain benefit that we fhould receive from this exami- 
nation and confeffion ; the mind would thereby be made 
humble, full of forrow and deep compunttion, and Oy 
degrees forced into amendment. 


Dd ¥ 


~A 


304 A SERIOUS. CALL TO A 


Whereas a formal, general confeffion, that is onl 
confidered as an evening duty, that overlooks the partic- 
ular miftakes of the day, and is the fame whether the - 
day be {pent ill or well, has little or no effe& upon the 
mind ; aman may ufe fuch a daily confeffion, and yet 
go on finning and confeffing all his life, without any re. 
morfe of mind, or true defirs,of amendment. For i 
your own particular fins are left out of your confeffion, 
your confefling of fin in general has no more effeét upon 
your mind, than if you had only confeffed that all men 
in general are finners. And there is nothing in any 
confeffion to fhew that it is yours, but fo far as it isa 
felf-accufation, not of fin in general, or fuch as is com- 
mon to all others, but of fuch particular fins, as ate your 
own proper fhame and reproach.» 

No other confeffion, but fuch as thus difcoyers and 
accufes your own particular guilt, can be an aét of true 
forrow or real concern at your own condition. Anda 
confeffion that is without this forrow and compunction 
of heart has nothing in it, either to atone for paft fins 
or to produce in us any true reformation and amend- 
ment of life. : 

To proceed ; in order to make this examination ftill 
further beneficial, every man fhould oblige himfelf to a 
certain method in it. As every man has fomething 
particular in his nature, ftronger inclinations to fome 
vices than others, fome infirmities that ftick clofer to 
him, and are harder to be conquered than others ; and 
as it 1s as eafy for every man to know this of himfelf, as 
to know whom he likes, or diflikes ; fo it is highly ne- 
ceflary, that thefe particularities of our natures and 
tempers fhould never efcape a fevere trial at our evening 
repentance ; I fay a fevere trial, becaufe nothing but a 
rigorous feverity againft thefe natural-tempers, is fuffi- 
cient to conquer them. } ‘ ait 

They are the right eyes, that are not to be {pared ; 
but to be plucked out and caft from us. For as they are 
the infirmities of nature, fo they have the ftrength of na- 4H 
ture, and muft be treated with great oppofition, or the 
will foon be too ftrong for us. He therefore, who knows — 
himfelf moft of all fubje&t to anger and paffion, m it 

_very exaét and conftant in his examination of this tem-— 


$n 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. . See. 


per every evening. He mutt find out every flip that he 
has made of that kind, whether in thought, or word, or 
aGtion ; he muft fhame, and reproach, and accufe him- 
felf before God, for every thing that he has faid or done 
in obedience to his paffion. He muft no more allow 
himfelf to forget the examination of this temper, thant 

forget his whole prayers. - P 

Again ; If you find that vanity is your prevailing 
temper, that is always putting you upon the adornment 
of your perfon, and catching every thing that compli- 
ments or flatters your abilities, never {pare or forget this 
temper in your evening examination ; but confefs to 
God every vanity of thought, or word, or ation, that 
you have been guilty of, and put yourfelf to all the fhame 
and confufion for it that you can. In this manner 
fhould all people a& with regard to their chief frailty, 
to which their nature moft inclines them. And though 
it fhould not immediately do all that they would with; 
yet by conftant praétice it would certainly in a fhort 
time produce its defired effe&. ; 

Farther :, As all ftates and employments of Ife have 
their. particular dangers and temptations, and expofe peo- 
ple more to fome fins than others, fo every man that 
wifhes his own improvement, fhould make it a neceffary 
part of his evening examination, to confider how he has - 
avoided, or fallen into fuch fins as are moft- common’ to 
his ftate of life. For as our bufinefs and condition of 
life has great power over us, fo nothing but fuch watch- 
fuluefs as this, can fecure us from thofe temptations to 
which it daily expofes us. The poor man, from his con- 
dition of life, is always in danger of repining and un- 
eafinefs ; the rich-man is moft expofed to fenfuality and 
indulgence ; the tradefman’ to lying and unveafonable 
gains ; the fcholar to pride and vanity ; fo that in every 
ftate of life, a man fhould always, in his examination of 
himfelf, have a ftri€t eye upon thofe faults, to which his 
ftate of life moft of all expofes him. ~ 

Again ; As it is reafonable to fuppofe, that every good 
man has eiitered into, or at leaft propofed to himfelf, 
fome method of holy living, and fet himfelf fome fuch 
rules to obferve, as are not common to other, people, and 
only known to himfelf ; fo it fhould be a conftant part 


326: ' A SERIOUS CALL TO & 


‘of his night recolleGtion, to examine how_and im what 
degree, he has obferved them, and to reproach himfelf 
before God, for every negle& of them. By rules, I 
here mean, fuch rules as relate to the well-ordering of 
our time, and the bufinefs of our common life. Such 
ruies as prefcribe a certain order to all that we are to do, 
our bufinefs, devotion, mortifications, readings, retire- 
ments, converfation, meals, refrefhments, fleep and the 
like. Now as good rules relating to all thefe things, are 
eertain means of great improvement, and fuch as ail fe- 
rious Chriftians muft needs propofe to, themfelves, fo 
they will hardly ever be obferved to any purpofe, unlefs 
they are made the conftant fubje& of our evening exam- 
ination. besh sis 

Laftly, You are not to content yourfelf with a hafty 
generat review of the day, but you muft enter upon it 
with deliberation ; begin with the firft a€tion of the day, 
and proceed ftep by ftep, through every particular mat- 
ter that you have been concerned in, and fo let no time, 
place or ation be overlooked. An examination thus 
‘managed, will in a little time make you as different from 
yourfelf, as a wife man is different from an ideot. It 
will give you fuch a newnefs of mind, fuch a fpirit of 
wifdom, and defire of perfetion, as you was an entire _ 
ftranger to before. Thus much concerning the evening 
examination. 

I proceed now to lay hefore-you fuch confiderations, 
as may fill your mind w! a a juft dread and horror of all 
fin, and help you to confefs your own in the mot paf- 
fionate contrition, and forrow of heart. Confider firlt, 
how odious all fin is to God, what a mighty bafenefs it 
is, and how abominable it renders finners in the fight of 
God. That it is fin alone that makes the great differ- 
ence betwixt an angel, and the devil ; and that every 
finner is, fo far as he fins, a friend of the devil’s, and car- 
rying on his work againft God. That fin is a greater 
blemifh and defilement of the foul, than any filth or dif- 
eafe is a defilement of the body. And to be content to — 
live in fin, is a much, greater bafenefs, than to defire to 
wallow in the mire, or love any bodily impurity. 

Confider how you muft abhor a creature that delight= 
ed in nothing but filth and naftinefs, that hated every — 


e =u 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. got 


thing that was decent and clean ; and let this teach you 
to apprehend how ‘odious that foul that delights in noth- 
- img but the impurity of fin, muit appear unto God. 
For ‘all fins, whether of fenfuality, pride, or falfenefs, or 
any other irregular paffion, are nothing elfe but the filth 
and impure difeafe of the rational foul. And all right- 
eoufnefs is nothing elfe but the purity, the decency, the 
beauty and perfeétion of that fpirit, which is made in 
the image of God. 
Again ; Learn what horror you ought to have for the 
of fin, from the greatnefs of that atonement which 
has'been made for it. God made the world by the 
breath of his mouth, by a word fpeaking ; but the “re- 
demption of the world has been a work of longer labour. 
How eafily God can create beings, we learn from the 
firft chapter of Genefis ; but how difficult it is for in- 
finite merey to forgive fins, ye learn from that coftly 
atonement; thofe bloody facrifices, thofe pains and pe- 
- waneces, thofe fickneffes and deaths. which all muit be ua- 
> dergone, before the guilty finner is fit to appear in the 
_ prefenee of ‘Ged. 
} Ponder thefe great truths : That the Son of God was 
forced to become man, to be partaker of all our infirmi- - 
ties ; to undergo a poor, painful, miferable, and con- 
temptible life ; to be perfecuted, hated, and at laft nail- 
ed to a crofs, that by fuch fufferings he might render 
God propitious to that nature in which he fuffered. 
_ That all the bloody facrifices and atonements of the 
| Jewith law, were to reprefent the neceffity of this great 
| -faerifice, and the great difpleafure God bore to finners. 
That the world is ftill under the curfe of fin and certain 
| marks of God’s difpleafure at it ; fach at famines, plagues, 
' «tempefts, ficknefs, difeafes and death. 
’ Confider that all the fons of Adam are to go through 
a pamful, fickly life, denying and mortifying their. nat- 
ural appetites, and crucifying the luft of the flefh, im or- 
der to have a fhare in the atonement of our Saviour’s ~ 
death. ‘Fat all their penances and felf-denials, all their 
_ fears and repentance, are only made available by that 
_ great interceffion, which is ftill making for them at the — 
wight hand of God. >a ; 
~~ Confider thefe great truths ; that this myfterious re- 


DdzZ 
a 


oe. tl 
’ 


828 A SERIOUS CALL TO A’ 
demption, all thefe facrifices and fufferings, both of God 
and man, are only to remove the guilt of fin ; and then 
let this.teach you with what tears and contrition, you’ 
ought to purge ypurfelf from it. After this general 
confideration of the guilt of fin, which has done fo much 
mifchief to your nature, and expofed it to fo great pun- 
ifhment, and made it fo odious to God, that nothing’ 
lefs than fo great an atonement of the Son of God, and 
fo great repentance of our own, can reftore us to. the 
divine:favour. boy orpotrs 

Confider next your own particular fhare in the guilt 
of fin. And if you would know with what zeak you 
ought to repent yourfelf, confider how you would ex- 
hort another finner to repentance ; and what repentance: 
and amendment you would expect from him, whom you 
judged to be the greateft finner in the world. Now this 
cafe every man may juftly reckon to be his own. And» 
you may fairly look upon ‘yourfelf to be the greateft’ 
finner that you know in the world. ; vem 

For though you may know abundance of people to” 
be guilty of fome grofs fins, with which you cannot 
charge yourfelf, yet you may juftly condemn yourfelf as 
the greateft finner that you know. And that for thefe 
following reafons. 

Firft, becaufe you know mere of the folly of your 
own heart,'than you do of other people’s ; and can charge: 
yourfelf with various fins, that you only know of your- 
felf, and cannot be fure that other finners are guilty of — 
them. So that as you know more of the folly, the” 
bafenefs, the pride, the deceitfulnefs and negligence of 
your own heart, than you do of any one’s elfe, fo you 
have juft reafon to confider yourfelf as the greateft fin- 
ner that you know: Becaufe you know more of -the . 
greatnefs of your own fins, than you do of other peo- 

le’s. * 
; Secondly, The greatnefs of our guilt arifes chiefly 
from the greatnefs of God’s goodnefs towards us, from 
the particular graces and bleffings, the favours, the lights, _ 
and inftru€tions that we have received from him. 

Now as thefe graces and bleffings, and the multiti le 
of God’s favours towards us, are the great ag ions 


of our fins againft God, fo they are only known’: lamer 
* y - 


7 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIEBE. 29 


felves. And therefore every finner knows more of the 
aggravation of his own guilt, than he does of other peo- 
ple’s ; and confequently may juftly look upon himfelf 
to be the greateft finner that he knows. 

How good God hath been to other finners, what 
light and imftruGtion he has vouchfafed to them ; what 
bleflings and graces they have received from him ; how 
often he has touched their hearts with holy infpirations, 

you cannot tell. But all this you know of yourfelf ; 
therefore you know greater aggravations of ~your own 
guilt; and are able to charge yourfelf with greater in- 
gratitude than you can charge upon other people. ; 
And this is the reafon, why the greateft faints have in 
all ages condemned themfelves as the greateft finners, 
beeaufe they knew fome aggravations of their own fins, 
which they could not know of other people’s. The right 
way therefore to fill your heart with true contrition, and 
a deep fenfe of your own fins, is this : You are not to 
confider, or compare the outward form or courfe of your 
life, with that of other people’s, and then think yourfelf 
to be lefs finful than they, becaufe the outward courfe 
of your life is lefs finful than theirs. But in order to 
_- know your own guilt; you muft confider your own par- 
ticular circumftances, your health, your ficknefs, your 
youth, or age, your particular calling, the happinefs of 
your education, the degrees of light and inftruGtion that 
you have received, the good men that you have converf- 
ed with, the admonitions that you have had, the good 
books that you have read, the numberlefs multitude of 
divine bleffings, graces, and favours, that you have re- 
eeived, the good motions of grace that you have refifted, 
_ the refolutions of amendment that you have fo often 
broken, and the checks of confcience that you have dif- - 
_ regarded. For it is from thefe circumftances, that every 
"me is to ftate the meafure and greatnefs of his own 
guilt. Andas you know only thefe circumftances of 
your own fins, fo you muft neceffarily know how to 
sharge yourfelf with higher degrees of guilt, than you 
ean charge upon other people. God Almighty: knows 
greater finners it may be, than you are ; becaufe he fees 
and knows the circumftances of all men’s fins: But your 
‘own heart, if it is faithful to you, can difcover no guilt 


” 


- 


- things, will mightily tend to humble us in our own € 


go. . A SERIOUS CALLPFOA™ + 


fo great as your own } becaufe it cam only fee in’ you - 
thofe circumftances, on which great part of the guilt of 
fin is founded. You may fee fins in other people, that 
you cannot charge upon yourfelf ; but then you know 
a number of circumftances of your own’ guilt, that you 
cannot lay to their charge. And perhaps that perfon 
that appears at fuch a diftance from your virtue, and fo 
odious in your eyes, would have been much better than 
you are, had he been altogether in your circumftances, 
and received all the fame favours — eb from God! 
that you have. 

This is a very humbling whies and very saps 
for thofe people to make, who meafure their virtue, by” 
comparing the outward courfe of their liyes with that 
of other people’s. For look at whom you will, however 
different from you in his way of life, y2t you can never 
know that he has refifted fo much divine grace as you” 
have ; or that in all your cireumflances, he would not” 
have been much truer to his duty than you are. | 
this is the reafon why I defired you to confider, how” 
you would exhort that man to confefs, and bewail his’ 
fins, whom you looked upon to be one of the greateft” 
fianers. Becaufe if you will deal juftly, you muit fix 
the charge at* home, and look no farther than yourfelf. 
For God has given no one any power of knowing the 
true greatnefs of any fins, but his own ; and therefore 
the greateft finner that every one knows is himfelf. You” 
may‘eafily fee how fuch a one in the outward courfe of 
his life breaks the laws of God ; but then you can never 
fay, that had you been exa@ly in all his circumftances, 
that you fhould not have bfoken them more than oe 
done. A ferious and frequent refleGtion upon th 


make us very apprehenfive of the greatnefs of our o “ae 
guilt, and very tender in cenfuring ‘and condemning ot 

er people, for who would dare to he fevere againit 
er people, when, for aught he can tell, the feveri 
Ged may be more due to him, thanto them? W 
would exclaim againft the guilt of others; when” 
fiders that he knows more of the greatnefs of 
guilt, than he does of theirs*? How often you 
fitted God’s holy TT how many motives to ge 


is 
7 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 331 


_you have difregarded ; how many particular bleflings 

you have finned againit ; how many good refolutions 

_ you have broken ; how many checks and admonitions 

ef confcience you have ftified, you very well know: 

But how often this has been the cafe of other finners, 

you know not. And therefore the greateft finner that 
you know muft be yourfelf. 

Whenever therefore you are angry at fin or finners, 

- whenever you read or think of God’s indignation and 
wrath at wicked men, let this teach you to be the moft 
feverein:your cenfure, and moft humble and contrite in — 

the acknowledgment and confeflion of your own fins; 

_ becaufe you know of no finner equal to yourfelf. 

Laftly, to conclude this chapter :, Having thus ex- 
amined and confeffed your fins at this hour of the even- 
ing, you muft afterwards look upon yourfelf, as fill 
ebliged to betake yourfelf to prayer again juit before 
you gotobed. The fubje& that is moft proper for your 

yers at that time, is death. Let your prayers there- 

- fore then be wholly upon it, reckoning up all the dan- 

' gers, uncertainties, and terrors, of death; let them con- 

_ tain every thing that can-effe&t and awaken your mind 

_ into juft apprehenfions of it. Let your petitions be all 

_ for right fentiments of the approach and importance of 

- death ; and beg of God, that your mind may be poffeffed 

_ with fuch a fenfe of its nearnefs, that you may have it 

- always in your thoughts, do every thing as in fight of it, 

and make every day, a day of preparation for it. Rep- 

_ refent to your imagination, that your bed is your grave 5 

that all things-are ready for your interment ; that you 
are to have no more to do with this world ; and that it 
will be owing to God’s great mercy, if you ever fee the 
light of the fun again, or have another day to add to 
your works of piety. And then commit yourfelf to fleep, 

"as into the hands of God; as one that is to have no 

"more opportunities of doing good; but is to awake 

amongft fpirits that are feparate from the body, and 
waiting for the judgment of the laft great day. 

_ Such a folemn refignation of yourfelf into the hands of 

od every evening; and parting with all the world, as if 

‘ou was never to fee it any more, and all this in the 


and darknefs of the night, is a praGtice that will 


ee a a ee ee re 
ge ASERIOUSCALL TOA , 


foon have excellent effe€&ts upon your Spirit. For this 
‘time of the night is exceeding proper for fich prayers | 
and meditations ; and the likenefs which fleep. and dark- 
nefs have to death, will contribute very much to make 
your thought: about it the more deep and affeGting. So 
that I hope you will not let a time, fo proper for fuch 
prayers, be ever Se over without them. 


—~——— 
CHAP. XXIV. 


The Conclufion. “Of the ai: S, and fo of a deo 


Spirit. 


I HAVE now finiffied what I tended in iia 
Treatife. I have explained the nature of devotion, 
as it fignifies a life devoted to God, and as it fignifies 
regular method of daily ptayer. I have now only to a 
a word or two in recommendation of a life governed 1 
this fpirit of devotion. For though it is as reafonable to 
fuppofe it the defire of all Ghriftians to arrive at Chrift. 
ian perfeGtion, as to fuppofe, that all fick mem defire to 
be reitored to perfe&t health 5 yet experience fhews us; 
that nothing wants more to be prefled, repeated and fore- 
ed vipon minds, than the plaineft rules of Chrifti 
Voluntary poverty, virginity, and devout a 
been here recommended, as things not_neceffa 
highly beneficial to thofe that would make the 
perfetiomthe moft eafy and certain. But Chri 
fection itfelf is‘tied to no particular form of life’ 
to be attained, though not with the fame eafe, 
ftate of life. This has been fully afferted in 
place ; where it has been fhewn that Chriftian 
tion calls no one (neceflarily) to a cloifter, but 
full performance of thofe duties, which are necefla 
all Chriftians, and common to all ftates of life. 
Perfe&t. p. 2. So that the whole of the niatter 
this: virginity, voluntary poverty, and fuch 
ftraints of lawful things, are not neceffary to Ch 
fe&tion ; but are much to be commended in 
choofe them as helps and means of a more fa 
arrival at it. - It is only in this manner, and 


yet 


& ~ 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2335 


that I would recommend any particularity of life ; not 
as if perfection confifted in it, but becaufe of its great | 
tendency to produce and fupport the true fpirit of Chrift- 
ian perfection., But the thing which is here preffed upon 
all, is, a life of great and ftri& devotion ; which, I 
think, has been fufficieatly fhewn to be equally the duty 
and happinefs of all-orders of men. Neither is there any 
thi. g in any particular ftate of life, that can be juftly 
pleaded as a reafon for any abatement of a devout {pirit. 
But becaufe in this polite age of ours, we have fo 
lived away the fpirit of devotion, that many feem afraid 
even to be fufpeéted of it, imagining great devotion to 
be great bigotry ; that is founded in ignorance and poor- 
_nefs of fpirit, and that little, weak, and dejected minds, 
are generally the greateft proficients in it : it hall here 
be fully thewn, that great devotion is the nobleft temper 
of the greateft and nobleft fouls ; and that they who 
think it receives any advantage from ignorance and poor- 
nefs of fpirit, are themfelves not a little, but entirely 
ignorantiof the nature of devotion, the nature of God, 
‘ and the nature of themfelves. 
People of fine parts and learning, or of great knowl- 
edge in worldly matters, may perhaps thiak it hard to 
have their want of devotion charged ppon their igno- 
-rance, But if they will be content to be tried by reafon 
and fcripture, it may foon-be made appear, that a want 
of devotion, wherever it is, either amongtt the learned 
-or unlearned, is founded in grofs ignorance, and the 
| greateft blindnefs and infenfibility that can happen to a 
Yational creature. And that devotion is fo far from being 
_ the effeé& of a little and deje&ted mind, that it muft and 
will be always higheft in the moft perfe& natures. And 
firft, who reckons it a fign of a poor, little mind, for a 
man to be full of.reverence and duty to his parents, to 
have the trueft loye.and honour for his friend, or to ex- 
cel in the higheft inftances of gratitude to his benefac- 
“tor ? Are not thefe tempers in the higheft degree in the 
moft exalted and perfe& minds ? And yet what is high 
evotion, but the higheft exercife of thefe tempers, of 
uty, reverence, love, honour, and gratitude to the ami- 
e, glorious parent, friend, and benefaétor of all man- 
nd? is it a true greatnefs of mind, to reverence the 


= 


334 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


authority of your parents, to fear the difpleafure of your 
friend, to dread the reproaches of your benefaétor ? and 
muft not this fear and dread, and reverence, be much ; 
more juft and reafonable, and ‘Konodele, when they are 
in the higheft degree towards God ? Now as the higher 
thefe tempers are, the more are they efteemed amongit 
men, and are allowed to be fo much the greater proofs 
of a true greatnefs of mind ; fo the higher and greater 
thefe fame tempers are towards God, fo much the more — 
do they prove the nobility, excellence, and greatnefs of — 
the mind. So that fo long as duty to parents, love to 
friends, and gratitude to benefators, are thought great 
and honorable tempers ; devotion, which is nothing elfe - 
but duty, love, and gratitude to God, muft have the 
higheft place amongft our higheft virtués. 

If a prince out of his mere goodnefs fhould fend you 
a pardon by one of his flaves, would you not think it a 
part of your duty to receive the flave with marks of love, 
efteem, and gratitude for his great kindnefs, in bringing 
you fo great a gift ; and at the fame time think it a. 
meannefs and poornefs of fpirit, to thew love,’ efteem, 
and gratitude to the prince, who of his own goodnefs 
freely fent you the pardon ? And yet this would be as 
reafonable, as to fuppofe that love, efteem, honour, and 
gratitude, are noble tempers, and inftances of a great 
foul, when they are paid to our fellow-creatures ; but 
the effets of a poor, ignorant dejected mind, when they: 
are paid to God. , 

Farther ; that part of devotion which expreffes itfelf 
in forrowful confeffion, and penitential tears of a broken” 
and contrite heart, is very far from being any fign of a 
little and ignorant mind. For who does not acknowle 
it an inftance of an ingenuous, generous, and brave mind,’ 
to acknowledge a fault, and afk pardon for any offence? 
And are not the fineft and moft improved minds, the 
moft remarkable for this excellent temper? Is it not allo 
allowed, that the ingenuity and excellence of a we 
fpirit is much fhewn when his forrow and indignatic 
at himfelf rifes in proportion to the folly of his crimes 
and the goodnefs and greatnefs of the perfon he has « 
fended ? Now if things are thus, thew the greater amy 
man’s mind is, the more he knows of God and himfelf, 


f DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 338 


_ the more will he be difpofed to proftrate himfelf before 
"7 God in all the humbleft acts and expreffions of repent- 
-ance. And the greater the ingenuity, the generofity, 
_ judgment, and penetration of his mind is, the more will 
he exercife and indulge a paffionate, tender fenfe of 
God’s juft difpleafure ; and the more he knows of the 
greatnefs, the goodnefs, and perfection of the divine-na- 
ture, the fuller ef fhame and confufion will he be at his 
own fins and ingratitude. . And on the other hand, the 
_ more dull and ignorant any foul is, the more bafe and 
ungenerous it naturally is, the more fenfelefs it is of the 
goodnefs and purity of God; fo much the more averfe 
will it be to all aéts of humble confeffion and repent- 
ance. : 

Devotion therefore is fo far from being beft fuited to 
little ignorant minds, that a true elevation of foul, a 
lively fenfe of honour, and great knowledge of God and 
ourfelves, are the greateft natural helps that our devotion 
hath, 

_.. And on the other hand, it hall Rere be made appear 
_ by variety of arguments, that indevotion is founded in 
_ the moft exceffive ignorance. 
_ And, Firf, Our bleffed Lord, and his apoftles, were 
_ eminent inftances of great and frequent devotion. Now 
if we will grant, (as all Chriftians muft grant ) that their 
reat devotion was founded in a true knowledge of the 
nature of devotion, the nature 6f God, and the nature 
_of man ; them it is plain, that all thofe that are infenfble 
of the duty of devotion, are in this exceflive flate of ig- 
-horance, they neither know God, nor themfelves, nor 
devotion. For if a right knowledge in thefe three re- 
Apeéts, produces great devotion, as in the cafe of our’ 
_ Saviour and his apoftles, then a negle& of devotion muft 
be chargeable upon ignorance. 
__» Again ; How comes it that moft people have recourfe 
to devotion, when they are in fickne refs, or fear 
of death ? Is it aot becaufe this tate them more 
“of the want of God, and their own weaknefs, than they 
erceive at other times ? Is it not becaufe their infirm= 
ies, their approaching end convinces them of fome- 
ing, which they did not half perceive before ? Now 
votion at thefe feafons, is the effect of a better knowl- 
Ee ' 


$36 ‘ A SERIOUS CALL TO A > 


edge of God, and ourfelves, then the negle& of devotion 
at other times, is always owing to great ignorance o 
God and ourfelves. a 

Farther ; As indevotion is ignorance, fo it is the moft 
fhameful ignorance, and fuch as is to be charged with 
the greateft folly. This will fully appear to any one 
that confiders, by what rules we are to judge of the ex- 
cellency of any knowledge, or the fhamefulnefs of any 
ignorance. Now knowledge itfelf would be no excel-— 
lence, nor ignorance any reproach a but that we 
are rational creatures. But if this be true, then it fol- 
lows plainly, that that knowledge which is moft fuitable 
to our rational nature, and which moft Concerns us, as 
fuch to know, is our higheft, fineft knowledge ; and 
that ignorance which relates to things that are moft ef- 
fential to us, as rational creatures, and which we are moft — 
concerned to know, is, of all others, the moft grofs and 
fhameful ignorance. If therefore there be any things 
that concern us more than others, if there be any truths - 
that are more to us than all others, he that has the fulleft 
knowledge of thefe things, that fees thefe truths in the — 
cleareft, ftrongeft light, has, of all others, as a rational 
creature, the cleareft underftanding, and the ftrongeft 
parts. If therefore our relation to God, be our greateft 
relation, if our advancement in his favour be our higheft 
advancement, he that has the higheft notions of the © 
excellence of this relation, he that moft ftrongly per- 
-ceives the higheft worth, and great value of holinefs 
and virtue, that judges every thing little, when com- 
pared with it, proves himfelf to be mafter of the beft, 
and moft. excellent knowledge. If a judge had fine 
{kill in painting, architeG@ture, and mufic, but at the 
fame time had grofs and confuféd notions of equity, 
and a poor, dull apprehenfion of the value of juitice, 
who would {cruple to reckon him a poor ignorant judge? 
If a bifhop fhould be a man of great addrefs and flall 
in the arts of Pteferment, and underftanding how 
raife and enrich his family in the world, but fhould 
no tafte or fenfe of the maxims and _ principles of 
faints and fathers of the church ; if he did not con 
the holy nature, and great obligations of his | 
and judge it better to be crucified to the world, 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 337 


live idly in pomp and fplendor, who would feruple to 
charge fuch a bifhop with want of underftanding ? If 
we do not judge, and pronounce after this manner, our 
reafon and judgment are- but empty founds. But now, 
if a judge is to be reckoned ignorant, if he does not 
feel or perceive the value and worth of juitice ; if a 
bifhop is to be looked upon as void of underfianding, if 
he is more experieticed in other things, than.in the ex- 
alted virtues ofyhis apoftolical calling ; then all common 
Chriftians are fo be looked upon as more or lefs know- 
ing, ine they know more or lefs of thofe 

| great things, which are the common and preatel con- 

cern of all Chriftians. If a gentleman fhould fancy that 

_ the moon is no bigger than it appears to the eye, that- 
it fhines with its own light, that all the ftars are only fo 
many fpots of light ; if after reading books-of aftron- 
omy, he fhould ftill continue in the fame opinion, moft 

~ people would think he had but a poor apprehenfion. 

But if the fame perfon fhould think it better to provide 
for a fhort life here, than to prepare for a glorious eter- 
nity hereafter, that it was better to be rich than to be 
eminent in piety, his ignoraice and dulnefs would be too 
great to be compared to any thing elfe. 

There is no knowledge that deferves fo much as the 
name of it, but that which we call judgment. And that 
is the moft clear and improved underftanding, which 

4 judges beft of the value and worth of things, ali the reft 
is but the capacity of an animal, is but mere ne and 
hearing. 

And there is no excellence of any knowledge in us, 
till we exercife our judgment, and judge well of the value 
_ and worth of things. If a man had eyes that could 
. fee beyond the ftars, or pierce into the heart of the 
earth, but could not fee the things that were before him, 
or difcern any thing that was ferviceable to him, we 
_ fhould reckon that he had but a very bad fight. If an- 
other had ears that received founds from the world in the 
_ moon, but could hear nothing that was done upon earth, . 
we fhould look upon him to be as bad as deaf. In like 
manner, if 2 man has a memory that can retain a great 
many things ; if he has a wit that is fharp and acute in arts 
and fciences, or am imagination that can wander agree- 


, 


338 A SERIOUS CALL TO A> 


1, 
rene 


prehenfion of his 
duty and relation to God, of the value of piety, or the 
worth of moral viftue, he may very juftly be reckoned 
to have a bad underftanding. He is but like the man that 
can only fee and hear fuch things as are of no benefit 
to him. - As certain therefore as piety, virtue, and eter- 
nal happinefs are of the moft concern to man, as certain 
_ as the immortality of our nature, and telation to God, 
are the moft glorious’ circumftances of¥our nature, fo — 
certain is it, that he who dwells moft imjcontemplation 
of them, whofe heart is moft affe&ted with them, who 
fees fartheft into them, who beft comprehends the value 
and excellency of them, who judges all worldly attain- — 
ments to be mere bubbles and fhadows, in comparifon — 
of them, proves himfelf to have of all others the fineft 
underftanding, and the ftrongeft judgment. And if we 
do not reafon after this manner, or allow this method of 
reafoning, we have no arguments to prove, that there is - 
any fuch thing as a wife man, or a fool. For a man is 
proved to be a natural, not becaufe he wants any of his 
fenfes, or is incapable of every thing, but becaufe he has 
no judgment, and is entirely ignorant of the worth and 
value of things, he will perhaps choofe a fine*coat ‘rather 
than a large eftate. And &s the effence of ftupidity 
confifts in the entire want of judgment, in an ignorance 
of the value of things ; fo on the other hand, the effence 
of wifdom and knowledge muft confift in the excellency 

ox our judgment, or in the knowledge of the worth and 
value of things. This therefore is an undeniable proof, 
that he who knows moft of the value of the beft things, — 
who judges moft rightly of the things which are of 
moft concern to him, who had rather have his foul in 

a ftate of Chriftian perfection, than the greateft thare — 
of worldly happinefs, has the higheft wifdom, and is at 
the fartheft diftance from men that are naturals, that 


ably in fi€tions, but has a dull, poor app 


any knowledge can place him. On the other hand, he : 


that can talk the learned languages, and Fepeat a great — 
deal of hiftory, but préfers the indulgence of his bod 
to the purity and perfection of his foul, who is m 
concerned to get a name, or an eftate here, than | 

in eternal glory hereafter, is in the neareft ftate to” 
natural, who choofes a painted coat, rather than 


] 


] 


a 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. $39 


eftate. He is not called a natural by men, but he-muft 
appear to God, and heavenly beings, as in a more excef- 
five-ftate of ftupidity, and will fooner or later certainly 
appear fo to himfelf. 

But now if this be undeniably hi, that we cannot 
prove a man to be a fool, but by fhewing that he has no 
knowledge of things that are good and evil to himfelf, 
then it is undeniably plain, that we cannot prove a man 
to be wife, but by fhewing that he has the fulleft knowl- 
edge of things fhe are his greateft good, and his great- 
eft evil. If theréfore God be our greateft good ; Sait 
there can be no good but in his favour, nor any evil but 
in departing from him, then it is plain, that he who 
judges it the beft thing he can do to pleafe God to the 
utmoit of his power, who worfhips and adores him with 
ali-his heart and foul, who had rather have a pious mind 
than all the dignities and honours in the world, fhews 
himfelf to be in the higheft ftate of human wifdom. 

To proceed ; We know how our blefled Lord adted 
in an human body ; it was his meat and drink to do the 
will of bis Father which is in heaven. And if any num- 
ber of heavenly fpirits were to leave their habitations 
in the light of God, and be for a while united to human 
bodies, they would certainly tend towards God in ail 
their actions, and be as heavenly as they could, in a 
ftate of flefh and blood. 

They would certainly a& in this manner, becaufe they 
would know that God was the only good of all fpirits ; 
and that whether they were in the body or out of the 
body, in heaven or on earth, they muft have every de- 

ree of their greatnefs and happinefs from God. alone. 
All human fpirits therefore, the more exaited they are, 


' the more they know their divine original, the nearer 
. they come to heavenly fpirits, by fo much the more will 


they live to God in all their ations, and make their whole 


* life a fate of devotion. Devotion therefore is the great- 
eft fign of a great and noble genius, it fuppofes a foul in 


_ its higheft ftate of knowledge ; ; and none but little and 


blinded minds, that are funk into ignorance and vanity, 


are deftitute of it. 
If an human fpirit fhould imagine fome mighty prince 
to be greater than God, we fhould take it for a poor» ig~ 
Ee2 


340 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


norant creature ; all people would acknowledge fuch an 
imagination to be the height of ftupidity. But if this 
fame human fpirit fhould think it better to be devoted to 
fome mighty prince, than to be devoted to God, would 
not this fill be a greater proof of a poor, ignorant, and 
blinded nature? Yet this is what all people do, who 
think any thing better, greater, or wifer than a devout 
life. So that which way foever we confider this mat- 
ter, it plainly appears, that devotion is an inftance of 
great judgment, of an elevated nature ; and the want of 
devotion is a certain proof of the want of underftanding, 
The greateft fpirits of the heathen world, fuch as Py- — 
thagoras, Socrates, Plato, Epiftetus, Marcus, Antoni- 
nus, &c. owed all their greatnefs to the fpirit of devotion. 
They were full ef God ; their wifdom and deep contem- 
plations tended only to deliver men from the vanity of 
the world; the flavery of bodily paffions, that they might 
. act as {pirits that came from God, and were foon to re- 
turn to him. td 
Again; To fee the dignity and greatnefs of a devout — 
fpirit, we need only compare it with other tempers that 
are chofen in the room of it. St. John tells us, that a// 
in the world (that is, ‘all the tempers of a worldly life) 
is the luft of the flefb, the luft of the eyes, and the pride of life. 
Let us therefore confider, what wifdom or excellency of 
mind there is required to qualify a man for thefe delights. 
Let us fuppofe a man given up to the pleafures of the 
body*; furely this can be no fign of a fine mind, or an 
excellent fpirit ; for if he has but the temper of an ani- 
mal, he is great enough for thefe enjoyments. Let us 
fuppofe him to be devoted to honours and fplendors, to 
be fond of glitter and equipage ; now if this temper re- 
quired any great parts or fine underftandimg to make a 
man capable of it, it would prove the world to abound 
with great wits. Let us fuppofe him to be in love with 
riches, and to be fo eager in the purfuit of them, as 
never to think he has enough ; now this paffion is fo far _ 
from fuppofing any excellent fenfe, or great under- — 
ftanding, that blindnefs and folly are the beft fupports — 
that it hath. Let us laftly fuppofe him in another light, 
not fingly devoted to any of thefe paffions, but as it 
moftly happens) governed by ‘all of them in their turns > _ 
wal 


DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 341 


does this fhew a more exalted nature, than to fpend 
his days in the fervice of any one of them? For to have 
a tafte for thefe things, and to be devoted.to them, is fo 
far from arguing any tolerable parts or underftanding, 
that they are fuited to the dulleft, weakeft minds, and re- 
quire only a great deal of pride and folly to be greatly 
admired. But now let libertines bring any fuch charge 
as this if they can, againft devotion, They may as 
well endeavour to charge light with every thing that be- 
longs to darknefs. Let them but grant that there is a 
God, and Providence, and then they have granted enough ~ 
to juftify the wifdom, and fupport the honour of devo- 
tion. For if there-is an infinitely wife and good Cre- 
ator in whom we live, move and have our being, whofe 
providence governs all things-in all places, furely it muft 
be-the higheft a& of our underftanding to conceive 
rightly of him ; it muft be the nobleft inftance of judg- 
ment, the moft exalted temper of our nature, to worfhip 
and adore this univerfal providence, to conform to its 
laws, to ftudy its wifdom, and to live and a& every 
where, as in the prefence of this infinitely good and 
wife Creator. Now he that lives thus, lives in the {pirit 
of devotion. And what can fhew fuch great parts, and 
fo fine an underftanding, as to live in this temper. For 
if God is wifldom, furely he muft be the wifeft man in 
the world, who moft conforms to the wifdom of God, 
who belt obeys his providence, who enters fartheft into ~ 
his defigns, and does all he can, that God’s will may be 
done on earth, as it is done in heaven. A devout man 
makes a true ufe of his reafon ; he fees through the 
vanity of the world, difcovers the corruption of his na- 
ture, and the blindnefs of his paffions. He lives by a 
law which is not vifible to vulgar eyes ;-he enters into 
the world of {pirits ; he compares the greateft: things, 
fets eternity againft time ; and choofes rather to be for 
ever great in the prefence of God, when he dies, than 
to have the greateft fhare of worldly pleafures whilft he 
lives. He that is devout, is full of thefe great thoughts ; 
he lives upon thefe noble reflections, and conduéts him- 
felf by rules and principles,. which can only be appre- 
hended, admired and loved by reafon._ There is nothing 
therefore that fhews fo great a genius, nothing that fo 


842 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 


raifes us above vulgar f{pirits, nothing that fo plainly de- 
clares an heroic greatnefs of mind, as great devotion. 
When you fuppofe a man to be a faint, or all devotion, 
you have raifed him as much above all other conditions 
of life, as a philofopher is above an animal. 

Laftly, Courage and bravery are words of a great 
found, and feem to fignify an heroic f{pirit ; but yet hu- 
mility, which feems to be the lowett, sandir part of © 
devotion, isa more certain argument of a noble and 
courageous mind. For humility contends with greater 
enemies, is more conftantly engaged, more violently 
affaulted, bears more, fuffers more, and requires greater 
courage to fupport itfelf, than any inftances of worldly 
bravery. A man that dares be poor and contemptible — 
in the eyes of the world, to approve himfelf to God ; that’ 
refifts and rejects all human glory, that oppofes the 
clamour of his paffions, that meekly puts up all injuries 
and wrongs, and dares flay for his reward. till the invifi- 
ble hand of God gives to every one their proper places, 
endures a much greater trial, and exerts a nobler forti- 
tude, than he that is bold and daring in the fire of battle. 

For the boldnefs of a foldier, if he is a ftranger to the_ 
fpirit of devotion, is rather weaknefs than fortitude ; it 

is at beft but mad paffion, and heated fpirits, and has no 
more true valour in it than the fury of atyger. _Foras 
we cannot lift up a hand, or ftir a foot, but by a power » 
that is lent us from God; fo bold a€tions that are not 
direted by the laws of God, or fo many executions of 
his will, are no more true brayery, than fedate malice is” 
Chriftian patience. 

Reafon is our univerfal law, that obliges us in all 
places, and at all times ; and no aétions have any honour, 
but fo far as they are inftarces of our obedience to rea- 
fon. And it is as bafe and cowardly, to be bold and dar- 
ing againft the principle of reafon and juttice, astobe | 
bold and daring in lying and perjury.° 

Would we therefore exercife a true fortitude, we autifen 
do all in the fpirit of devotion, be valiant againft the cor- 
ruptions of the world, and the lutts of the flefh, and the ae 
temptations of the devil ; for to be daring and courage= 
ous againft thefe enemies, isthe nobleft bravery that an 
human mind is capable of. . . 


_™ DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. “348 


I have made this digreffion, for the fake of thofe, who 
think a great devotion to be bigotry and poornefs of 
fpirit ; that by thefe.confiderations they may fee, how 
poor, and mean all other tempers are, if compared to it. 
That they may fee, that all worldly attainments, wheth- 
er of greatnefs, wifdom or bravery, are but empty 
founds ; and there is nothing wife or great, or noble, in 
an human fpirit, but rightly to know, and beartily wor- ~ 
fhip and adore the great God, that is the fupport and 
life of all fpirits, whether in heaven or on earth. 


Pee vesesesss 


K. & J. LA RKIN, 
BOOKSELLERS & STATIONERS, No. 47, CORNHILL, 
* 
BOSTON, 


Fave constantly for sale, a large assortment of 


BOOKS, ~ 


To which additions are continually making, of European and 
American editions, of the most esteemed Authors in 


DIVINITY, PHILOSOPHY, 
PHYSIC, POETRY, 
SURGERY, THE DRAMA, 
CHEMISTRY, AGRICULTURE, 
ANATOMY, MATHEMATICS, 
HISTORY, MISCELLANIES, 
BIOGRAPHY, VOYAGES, 
TRADE and COM- TRAVELS, 
MERCE, -CLASSICS. 
LAW, ALSO» 
BIBLES, 


of almost every description, w'th or oa Notes, suitable for 
the desk, school or family use, from 87} cts. to 45 dollars. 


- 


3 AL80, 
_ Scott? s Commentaries on the Bible, 4 vols. 4to. 
Henry’s Exposition, 6 vols. 4to. 


- Poole’s Annotations, 


Ostervald’s Bible, 
Brown’s Self-Interpreting Bible, 
Mosheim’s Ecclesiastical History, 
~ Orton’s Exposition, 

Doddridge’s Exposition, &c. 
LIKEWISE, 


| SCHOOL BOOKS of every kind now in general use ; 


Dictionaries and Testaments; Writing and Drawing Paper of 
all sizes, and a general assortment of such Stationary as is usual 
to be had in Bookstores, 


Social and Private Libraries supplied on the most rea= 
sonable terms. : 


- 


ee sy 5 


MAY 4 o=-s | 


6 


na 


0070 3369S 


Div. S ) 
248 L415SE.* 2932968 


se9e¢0/000 


HL. j \ 


osts 


